Pandora's Box
by HelenT
Summary: This is an old one reposted. SG1 get into trouble offworld. Sam and Jack become separated from Daniel and Teal’c and are on the run from pursuers who have a new ‘assignment’ for Sam that Jack will never allow to happen. SJ
1. Chapter 1

TITLE: Pandora's Box

SUMMARY: SG-1 get into trouble off-world. Sam and Jack become separated from Daniel and Teal'c and are on the run from pursuers who have a new 'assignment' for Sam that Jack will never allow to happen.

RATING: Mature

NOTES: (1) This is an old fic that was originally posted here and then taken down in favour of my own website; however, with that website gone, I'm re-archiving.

(2) This story uses the premise of an old movie I read about, but never saw. I think it was based on a book 'The Handmaidens tale' which I also haven't read. The premise of it was a future society where most women are infertile and those that aren't are used shamelessly. It's set after S3's 'Points Of View' and includes spoilers for S1's 'Solitudes' and S2's 'In The Line of Duty'

DISCLAIMER: Stargate SG1 and the characters are the property of MGM. There is no infringement intended and no profit made.

THANKS to Lysa for doing a belated and much needed beta on this.

The wormhole vanished behind Daniel as he stepped onto the ramp with a metallic thunk. His eyes met General Hammond's through the glass of the control-room. The message must have been conveyed. He saw the man stiffen, heard him order a medical team to the 'gate room and wasn't surprised when the commander of the SGC whirled away to stride towards the stairs leading to the embarkation room.

Hammond must have moved fast because he was waiting at the bottom before Daniel reached the end of the ramp staggering with a wounded Teal'c leaning heavily on him. Tendrils of smoke still drifted from small black holes in the Jaffa's BDU.

"What in hell's happened, Dr Jackson," he asked urgently, "And where's the rest of SG-1?" The Texan twang was pleasant, but didn't detract one iota from the man's ability to relay absolute authority mixed with genuine concern.

Heart heavy, Daniel wished he had better news, "They're in trouble, General," he said bluntly, "and we don't have much time--."

"We must return immediately," asserted Teal'c heavily. The massively hewn man, once First Prime of Apophis, took no account of his injuries. Straightening to stand unsupported with only a grunt of pain, he stared at his adopted commander with familiar stoicism, "We return only for fresh weapons."

Given the battle-scarred state of the pair, only he could have believed that would wash. "You'll go when I say you can go," Hammond stated and raised hand to ward off further argument. "And that won't happen until I know what the heck's going on."

His expression was resolved: discussion over. "Teal'c, you go with Dr Frasier.

Grim, he did a quick scan of Daniel, ascertaining he was relatively unharmed before saying, "Dr Jackson, briefing room if you please."

o-O-o

"This sounds…unbelievable." Hammond, a two-star USAF general who'd seen more weirdness in the last two and half years than the previous forty, shook his head and tried to make sense of what he'd just been told.

On his left in his usual place and visibly wired with stress, Daniel spread his hands helplessly. "I know it sounds like particularly bad b-movie plot, General, but you have to believe me that despite previous assurances these people are a real threat."

He didn't wait for a response, "In fact we wouldn't be in this mess right now except none of us took the threat seriously until it was too late."

"We've had a team on this planet for weeks now. In fact, correct me if I'm wrong but this is SG-1's second visit and the first went without mishap." Hammond held up a quelling hand to stem interruption while he finished. "And now you're telling me that none of you suspected what was really going on until a few days ago?"

Daniel sighed and briefly drummed some fingertips on the table, "General, I'm an archaeologist, not an anthropologist. So is Dr Seragosa from SG-7 for that matter. We all assumed we were dealing with a typical matriarchal society similar to those written about on Earth during ancient times-."

"Only not so typically these women enslave other women?"

"Exactly, and that's not the only radical difference. In fact the term is completely wrong for a start. Matriarchal is a Latin word deriving from 'Matri' which means mother, and 'arch' meaning chief."

"Dr Jackson," cut in, Hammond in a clear warning.

"Sorry," Daniel reigned himself back in. "This is the exact opposite of Saluran society. Instead of revering motherhood and the ability to bear children, they despise it." He paused and dug both thumbs into gritty eyes. "I don't know why that is, I only know it is."

"And now they've decided Major Carter is useful as an alternative to bearing children themselves?"

"Something like that, yes." Daniel's short laugh held no amusement. "Poor Sam, she does tend to garner the wrong attention at times."

Hammond's brows lowered to stormy levels, "I fail to see anything humorous in this, Dr Jackson."

"I agree," shot back, Daniel, leaning forward for emphasise. "The point is that they have a history of abducting women who are fertile to use in place of themselves." He stopped and looked inward at something that caused him to grimace with distaste, "They treat them like cattle, General, and there's nobody to stop them."

"What about the men?" Hammond asked. "And if they're so darned advanced why don't the Salurans use artificial means if it's that important to them?"

"I asked that myself. From what we gathered before everything hit the fan is that the Salurans have tried and failed using artificial methods. They also appear to have a 'thing' about artificial insemination, too."

The meaning behind that wasn't lost on the General whose round, usually ruddy face went pale with fury. Empathising with the man, Daniel tried to maintain some semblance of dispassion. "As for the men, they mate when and who they're told to. From what little I saw, I don't expect them to be a big help."

Hammond was visibly struggling to keep his cool. "The Salurans assured us before we sent anyone through that they would accept a delegation of peaceful explorers. And the reports I've read haven't so much as hinted at any problems until you walked back through the 'gate today."

For once, Daniel was stymied on how to explain it.

Hammond wanted answers. "What the hell happened to change that peaceful situation to the point where I now have two of my best officers on the run to prevent one from being enslaved and turned into some kind of…damned brood mare?"

Wincing, Daniel and worded his reply as carefully as he dared, "We're not entirely sure. It seemed to start when Jack and Sam split off to examine their automatic defence systems-"

"Was something said to offend them?" interrupted Hammond and it didn't take a genius to guess whose flippant tongue he was referring to.

Vehemently, Daniel shook his head. "Jack's behaviour was perfectly acceptable. In fact, I'd say he was at his diplomatic best for a change…," he faltered.

"Go on," prodded Hammond severely. "There's something else, I can smell it. Punchline it, Doctor."

"It wasn't Jack's fault, General," Daniel closed his eyes and threw it out there, "I guess she just took a shine to him and didn't like it when he said, no."

He got the response he was expecting.

"I beg your pardon."

o-O-o

"It's time to find somewhere to bed down for the night." O'Neill announced as he came back up from the stream, "Are you ready to move out?"

"Yes sir" Major Sam Carter looked up from the remains of their last MRE. As tasteless as the ready-to-eat menu could be, she wasn't looking forward to scavenging. From now on they'd have to hunt for food. "Ready when you are."

"Good, let's go," without wasting any more time, Colonel Jack O'Neill set the pace in a south westerly direction.

Basic survival training insisted that you eat and sleep in different locations and he'd been in enough tricky situations to know that advice was sound. After a pitch battle to escape and the day's hike, he was tired enough to hope they found something suitable within a click of their current position.

The terrain was tough and consisted mainly of dense forest and thick underbrush. O'Neill didn't even try and find easier, open land considering the aerial concealment offered by the tree's canopy of leaves a big plus. Right now their main objective was keeping themselves out of enemy hands until either the cavalry arrived or the situation was resolved.

"Carter, remind me the next time General Hammond asks that we baby-sit Daniel and his geek buddies while they study a matrimonical society to tell him to go to hell in a hand basket, will you?" he snarled over one shoulder.

Her assignment hadn't been babysitting but it was a moot point now. Unseen by him, Carter's brief smile was wry, "Ah sure thing, and it's matriarchal, sir."

"I knew that."

For once he had and the misspelling had been a frustrated attempt to belittle the bitches from hell, but he kept that to himself.

P49-578, or Salura as the locals called the planet was heavily forested with only a few clearings to break up the never-ending march of tree trunks and swaying foliage overhead. The exception to that has been the hidden city, SG-7 had found on a routine recon mission. If nothing else the air was fresh and the temperature was warm, if humid, during the day and just about bearably cold at night.

It could be worse. Antarctica has been worse- barely. Freezing your butt off; broken bones, punctured lungs and no DHD, but on the plus side…no Neer'ah.

Just then the trail grew wide enough and Carter drew level with him, "Colonel, I've been thinking."

"You do that a lot," he acknowledged without taking his eyes off their immediate surroundings; scanning for any tell-tale signs of recent patrols or passing human traffic, "Specifically about?" he prodded.

"Escaping through the stargate."

"It's a bit late to be trying to pull that particular rabbit out of a hat, Major."

That wasn't encouraging. Used to him by now, she ploughed on anyway, "I know it would be difficult with it being so heavily guarded, but-"

An unusual sound up ahead had him freezing and signalling for Carter to sink to a crouch along with him. She did so smoothly and without hesitation. When he was certain it was nothing sinister he finally gave her his full attention and replied, "Crank that statement up to suicidal and the answer is no."

Carter was nonplussed, "Don't you even want to hear my idea?" As abrupt as the Colonel could be, he usually gave her a fair hearing. Not today though.

"The stargate is at least 20 clicks back the way we've come," he said shortly, "not to mention through territory very likely swarming with more of those bounty hunters." He shook his head, the silver of his hair glinting amidst the iron grey, "No, we stick to the plan, evade capture and wait for contact by friendly forces."

As far as he was concerned the topic was closed. O'Neill rose lithely to stand upright again and Carter's gaze had to skim long legs and over the black MP5 dangling down his battle vest to catch his eyes. She could see his frown despite the shadow cast by the low brim of his cap. "That could take a while, sir."

"Yeah, well I don't have anything better to do," above her full lips twisted wryly. Surprised, Carter blinked before accepting the hand he held out palm up, to help her rise.

His hand was warm and comfortingly large, "Are you sure you won't just let me-?"

"Carter," O'Neill lost patience, "I won't risk what the Salurans have planned for you on the off chance of a quick fix and ticket home. Got it?!"

Then setting off again, he left her to mull over what he'd said. It had been enlightening. Now she understood the unusual tension in a man who blithely threw himself and his team into dangerous situations on an almost daily basis.

As harebrained and insanely dangerous as some of SG-1's activities had been in the last 3 years, the Colonel took the safety of his team very seriously; more seriously than he would normally get away with if he wasn't so exceptional at getting the job done, too. Hammond sharing this view helped considerably of course.

I won't risk what the Salurans have planned for you. The snarl on his lips and fierce fury in bitter brown depths when he'd said that shook Sam to the core. The fact that they took deadlier risks all the time didn't make any difference. The nature of the threat this time was unique and unacceptable.

He was her CO and the decision was his. Infiltrating the complex holding the stargate was out for now.

"Yes, sir," she belatedly called out to his back, "Sorry, sir."

Tension, tightly coiled since that unexpected confrontation with Neer'ah and her goons, loosened enough that she was able to suck in a few deep breaths that felt exquisite without those tight, anxious bands. Deep down, she'd already known that he'd do whatever he had to make sure she didn't find herself locked up in this planet's version of a baby farm, but hearing it said out-loud was incredibly reassuring.

o-O-o

"The city has been searched twice now, Neer'ah. When are you going to accept that the remaining Earthlings have eluded us?"

"How about never?" was the low snarled response.

The folds of the deceptively simple, cream day-cloak swirled in agitation as the brunette turned to answer the drawled statement. One of a ruling elite, she was an attractive thirty-year-old with the regal airs of her forebears to add grandeur to pleasantly symmetrical features and moss green eyes.

Her visitor raised a cold, querying brow. "Loss of face is one thing, but this…tantrum you're indulging in seems extreme to the rest of us."

"The woman, Carter, challenged me." Pacing away, Neer'ah worked hard to show just the right amount of indignation, "I tolerated her attitude for the first few days believing the opportunity to trade was worth it, but after Colonel O'Neill refused my invitation…," she trailed off.

"Ah, and there was me thinking you were merely put-out that he wasn't enamoured of your charms." Older by a decade and with her own long hair streaked with silvery grey, Rayna, was assured and currently spitefully amused. "Not that I'd entirely blame you. He was rather…ah, unique. Not my type, but definitely…hmm, what's the word I'm looking for?"

"Don't be ridiculous," Neer'ah stopped her agitating pacing to glare. "I'm hardly so desperate for company as that, Rayna Eboa. I found O'Neill attractive in a dark, unpolished sort of way, but I wasn't offended by his refusal."

Once again the brow climbed in disbelief, and a prod to explain.

"It was her… Major Carter," Neer'ah's gaze was steady. "She had the look of one well pleased by his rejection of me. She was taunting me in public," the green turned to ruthless and marble-hard, "and that I will not stomach."

Rayna sighed and all that was missing was a 'tsk'. "Impetuosity was always your biggest flaw, baby sister." Without waiting for an invitation she took a seat and arranged her own attire to drape over her legs. "You should have consulted us before taking such drastic action. What if we had wanted to continue negotiations for trade?"

"Trade for what?" shot back Neer'ah with a sneer, "we have everything we need except for breedable females." A slim hand waved to emphasise the beautifully appointed room with its low hum of underlying power and unobtrusive technology, "Which in case you'd forgotten is the one thing, O'Neill assured us they would never provide. I have merely arranged to have a fresh one added to the program while we have the opportunity."

"That may be, but I doubt the leaders of their world will be so willing to abandon Major Carter; a point that was well made by Dr Jackson and the Jaffa."

"They were dealt with easily enough."

"And again you acted without Council approval. More will come, you know."

Neer'ah didn't like where this discussion was heading. Her chin rose, "And they will be dealt with, too. Stop fussing, Rayna."

Crystal blue eyes turned icier, "My dear, I think you fail to understand the precariousness of your position."

There was a pause. Stiffly, Neer'ah asked, "How so?"

"Morgana has been looking for a way to undermine our family ever since she got elected. This nonsense has made sure the rest of the council are listening to her. That could mean bad news for you, dearest."

"We are one of the oldest families of the elite. What can she do," scoffed Neer'ah.

Painted lips curved into a smile that was far from warm. "A lot and it's already begun. A meeting has been called and we are both ordered to attend."

Neer'ah went white.

"Perhaps they simply want to discuss your Colonel's lack of polish, too," said Rayna, "but somehow I doubt it. My bet is they want to know how our visitors managed to get inside the breeding centre."

o-O-o

Jack rocked back on his boots trying to ease the strain on his knees at being crouched for a prolonged period.

You call a couple of minutes prolonged?

Ignoring the inner taunt, Jack kept his senses a hundred percent attuned to what was going around him. No matter what movies would like folks to believe, crossing enemy terrain isn't a race. In fact, moving quickly and without proper precautions will only give away your position and deafen you to approaching hostiles.

Not a good idea.

They'd passed some caves a ways back that in friendlier circumstances they may have used for shelter. Now, he avoided them like the plague. It didn't take a genius to know any halfway decent hunter on their trail would check them out first.

There was still an hour of good sunlight left, but the spot O'Neill found was adequate and he didn't want to extend the search further and risk it getting dark before finding an alternative. A few minutes of absolute silence and watching for any activity reassured him enough. Rising, he raised his hand and signalled for Major Carter to follow him.

She was a silent shadow on his six as they closed in on the spot. Jack couldn't hear her, only feel her presence and curse a fate that seemed to get some kind of twisted kick out of forcing him into a position of sleeping with his 2INC. Huddling with a bunch of men who stank of sweat and worse should have been less appealing. The problem was, sharing body heat with Carter tended to heat his blood a whole lot more than regulations allowed.

Spending hours holding himself stiff and trying to make sure she didn't accidentally brush against any evidence of that reaction wasn't exactly his idea of R'n'R. The bitch of it was, the only alternative was to build a shelter, and it wasn't cold enough to warrant the bother and risk of constructing one. She knew it and he knew it. Damn it!

He'd been fretting about it for hours now. It was time to change the channel and lighten up a bit. First he needed some levity and then space though. Squinting through the trees foliage to check the position of the sun, Jack lifted off his cap and ran his fingers through sweat dampened hair.

Tugging it back into place, he made a mental note to get a trim when they got back.

"Start gathering some vegetation, Carter," he said, "I'm going to set-up some traps and see if we can't catch us some nibblers during the night."

"What about rigging some alarms along the perimeter, Colonel," she replied, easing the backpacks weight off her shoulders. "Do you want me to hook something up?"

The fact that she could barely meet his gaze was pretty revealing about the train of her thoughts. That and the evidence of strain on her face anyway. O'Neill didn't like it, but accepted there was little he could do about it. Carter's feelings of guilt about the part she'd played in bringing them to this point was something she'd have to deal with herself.

Not that he blamed her anymore than he did himself. Sometimes the crap hit the fan without any help from him. It happened and you dealt with it.

"Sure, knock yourself out." Already on his way, O'Neill did an abrupt one-eighty to gesture at a pair of thick trunks, "Except leave me a gap between these two trees as an entry. We don't want to wake up the neighbourhood when I get back now do we?"

A past master, he used just the right amount of careless flippancy. Blue eyes flashed with amusement and a reluctant return smile tugged on her lips, "No, sir, we don't."

o-O-o

Sam managed to scrounge together some long branches to fashion a frame to hold the moss and leaves together. That done, she got to work on some rigging up those defences. Not that she had a lot to work with. They hadn't had enough warning of trouble to pack up all of their gear.

Sitting cross-legged on the earthen floor while she threaded some wire through a flare, Sam was tossed back into the maelstrom of her emotions.

Daniel had seen it coming first and when reason failed, he and Teal'c had bought her and the Colonel enough time to get out of the city. She only hoped Daniel had been right about the Salurans letting them go home and that it was her they were after.

Teal'c had wanted to remain with them, but O'Neill had overruled him and in the midst of a fire fight they couldn't win, the Colonel had laid the law down with a rare glare that had caused even a warrior of Teal'c stature to drop his gaze and accept.

The last she'd seen of the other two members of SG-1 was them trying to knock out the security cameras giving away their escape, all the while being blasted at by the self-same automatic defences Sam had been admiring earlier.

She'd make it up to them. Some way, some day she'd make it all up to them. Exhausted by the slow grind of guilt, Sam dropped her head and rubbed a hand over neck muscles that ached with tension. No matter what she thought of Neer'ah and the Salurans generally, she'd let stubborn pride and knee-jerk reactions compromise her professionalism and jeopardise her friends lives. It was totally unacceptable.

"Whatcha thinking about?"

Startled into jerking around, Sam ended up travelling along those long legs, braced sturdily apart again, "Oh, uh…I didn't hear you," she mumbled when she finally caught up with midnight dark eyes and a single, quirked brow.

His question finally registered, "I was just thinking," she shrugged, "nothing to worry about."

"Is that wise when working with explosives?" queried, O'Neill tongue-in-cheek, looking like he didn't buy her nonchalant act. "Unless one is thinking about NOT blowing your fingers off of course."

Jack O'Neill only ever spoke that precisely when he was being subtly sarcastic. Which in itself was rare as subtle was something he didn't normally bother with.

He was also right, Sam winced and felt sheepish. "I'm almost done here," she said, "I guess, I hadn't realised so much time had passed." With some surprise she noticed it was considerably darker now than it had been when O'Neill had gone to set traps.

She'd been too caught up to realise dusk had arrived. Above them in the small portion she could see, the sky was slowly turning purple and grey with a pale slice of moon.

"Which kind of confirms my theory about concentrating," he pointed out and this time there was a definite reprimand. "Finish up and we'll bed down." He cast a jaundiced glance at the make-shift bed of leaves, "We should get as much rest as possible and move out at first light."

With his help they were done in a matter of minutes. Rolls of fatigue swept over her in waves as Sam sat down to untie and pull off her boots for a few minutes. Free, she sighed at the relief of being able wriggle toes that had been cramped from walking all day. Putting them back on before bedding down was going to be a bitch, but preferable to running in bare feet if they get an unwelcome visitor. A few ft away, Colonel O'Neill stretched up high and then rolled his shoulders to loosen up.

Catching the fluid movement of muscle in a supple male body, Sam's brain picked that moment to have a 'moment'. That's what she called the reluctant flashbacks she'd been getting recently; all tied in with standing in a storeroom of the SGC, staring through the quantum mirror at her CO who was indulging in a long, unhurried kiss with her alternate universe self.

Flabbergasted, she'd been rooted to the floor with her eyes glued to the sight of the two of them wrapped in an intimate embrace. The Colonel and her. Only it wasn't her, but an alternate version. One who'd never joined the military, but worked as a scientific contractor and married the Jack O'Neill of her reality.

Then watched him die within days of their first anniversary.

Sam didn't even try to analyse how she felt about that titbit. The Jack O'Neill of her reality was totally ignorant of her momentary absorption in him. He bent down to untie his own laces and Sam was free to yank her attention onto something else- anything.

Blindly, Sam stared at her hands. Even stuck off-world and pursued by God knows who, the same questions whirled around in her head. Why had he done it? Why had he kissed that Dr Carter? Could it mean he attracted to her, or was it just the hair? Maybe, he'd just been pitying her; trying to make AU Carter feel better?

Ugh! As always when she considered the last one, her skin crawled, repulsed at the idea that pity might have been his motivation. Yeesh, both she and her AU self had some pride, thanks very much.

Either way, she wished he hadn't kissed her, or that she hadn't seen it, because it had opened up a can of worms for Sam that was refusing to be shoved back into the unacknowledged recesses of her mind.

In the midst of her musings a hand appeared in front of her face, finger and thumb clicking. Blinking, Sam looked up at the shadowed face of the man behind her new uncertainty.

When he had her attention, O'Neill asked too clearly and succinctly, "Carter, have you hit your head, or sustained some other sort of injury, I don't know about?"

She could see where this was headed. Sam felt the flush start and shook her head, "No, sir"

"Then can you explain why I've managed to sneak up on you twice," he waggled two fingers for emphasise, "All without trying to, I might add."

She used the opportunity study him and saw not so much as flicker of awareness of her as a woman. What had she expected? While nobody would ever accuse Jack O'Neill of being straight as an arrow with his occasional disregard for orders, and actual pride in being a smart-ass, he was a Colonel, a decorated career officer who would never put up with his 2INC…

What? Harbouring a crush…falling in love with him? Oh, God no, don't even think it!

His voice sharpened, "Carter?"

A lump formed and Sam forced herself to speak, "Ah, I don't know, sir, bad day, maybe."

She could see he wasn't satisfied and his quiet, "You're a better soldier than that, Major," managed to make her feel like she was letting everybody down, including herself. She didn't need to be reminded they were fugitives on a hostile alien planet. What she needed was to get a grip- now!

o-O-o

I am so getting too old for this crap.

Cold seeped through the leaves from the earth floor. A floor that was co-incidentally as hard as a damned rock. Not to mention lying as he was so that he didn't touch Carter had his spine feeling like it had been fused together. All in all, he'd had better nights.

Uh huh, yeah, like you actually enjoyed sleeping on the ground with next to no cover even when you were 30.

That was true and absolutely no help at all. With no relief in sight anytime soon, Jack sighed heavily and tried counting the few stars peeping out from the velvet bed of the night sky.

"Did you say something, sir?"

"No, Carter, just thinking that at forty-three, I should have a nice desk job by now."

"Oh,"

The way she said it, it was obvious she didn't really know what else to say. Jack's lips curved wryly and he said, "Go back to sleep."

As if on cue, Carter turned to lie on her back and her sigh rivalled his for exasperation. "I would except I haven't been asleep yet."

He tilted his head so he could see the top of her blonde head, and gruffly asked, "Whatsup?"

She took her time answering and Jack caught on. He debated not saying it, and did anyway, "Cold?"

"Yeah," she sighed and under the thin poncho he could see she was holding herself tight as if trying to lock heat in. By unspoken agreement, they'd left a few inches between them. Now it looked like even that would have to go.

"Scoot over then," he offered with a jerk of his chin, adding gruffly, "It's gonna be a bit difficult to evade the enemy if we're falling asleep on our feet."

In response, the blonde hair rose another inch so all of her face was visible. Her breath plumed in the cold air. "Yeah," she said reluctantly, and shuffled over as instructed. Instant heat bloomed on his left side as she settled into his side. He tucked the poncho around them both. She said a muffled, "Thanks," and turned to face the other way.

Grinning slightly, Jack couldn't help making the comparison. This was radically different than Antarctica where she'd almost climbed on top of him. Sardonically, he wondered if the difference was because the cold was nowhere near as life threatening this time; more discomfort than actual risk, or because of what she'd seen through that quantum mirror. If he was a betting man, he'd go for even odds.

o-O-o

O'Neill awoke just before dawn. An urgent need for coffee, aching knee joints and his detestation for overnight off-world missions would normally have been the first conscious thoughts to seep through the sleep-fog. Not today.

Today, the first thing he noticed was lying on his side and being warm as toast on his front. Swiftly followed by the stunning realisation that he and Carter were wrapped up together as snug as a bug in a rug. The second that knowledge sank fully into Jack's brain his heartbeat kicked up into a canter.

There was more.

The really big news was that he had one arm curled around her back, supporting and keeping her pressed to him while Carter's face was tucked into his neck. Then, if that wasn't bad enough, down below one slim leg lay between his two. He'd forgotten how good such intimacy felt.

How they'd got like this without either one waking up he had no idea. It was as if sometime during the night they'd unconsciously adjusted themselves to fit. Almost Yin and Yang-like.

Lying there on the hard ground while the sky behind the thick canopy overhead lightened, Jack was bombarded with sensory information that he could have done without knowing, or being reminded of. Soft, moist puffs of breath washed over his Adam's apple and without the jacket and vest, he could feel the plump mounds of her breasts press into his chest.

His other arm lay over her waist and he could feel the delicate track of her spine under his palm. Then there was that scent. The smell that was pure woman. The essence of femininity that only a man who'd been married, or lived with a woman for long enough could appreciate. It teased him with a hint of sweetness.

Nostalgia, too.

And maybe a dollop or two of temptation.

Oh crap!

Goose-bumps chased themselves all over Jack's body. He didn't doubt for a second it was wrong- on so many levels. But…God! She felt wonderful. Too wonderful, he realised when his body began its enthusiastic reaction to the situation.

Double crap!

Jack froze and even held his breath, afraid of jostling her awake and inadvertently calling attention to the one thing he didn't want her aware of. Somehow, he couldn't imagine getting into a conversation with her about involuntary morning erections, even as an excuse for the one he had.

Sam took the lead, scouting out the terrain with Jack carrying the backpack and bringing up the rear. It was a pretty morning. Golden sunlight filtered though dense foliage to dapple the forest floor. Scurrying wildlife added to the rich tapestry of nature while above and around them the trees towered, filled with birdsong that twittered and warbled. It was…pretty.

Full lips curved in wry amusement. She was no poet that was for sure. Thankfully, both physics and the military called for the ability to call a spade a spade and not find ten other words to merely hint at it. She knew what she liked. Waking up to a flushed and suspiciously bright-eyed CO who, after a horrified stare of comprehension, had instantly jerked away from her had gotten added to the 'liked' list an hour ago.

For about a second, she tried to pretend it was catching the notorious smart-ass Colonel so completely off guard that was entertaining her. Sh'yeah! He might use confusion like a disguise, and catching him out to the point of jaw hitting the floor was damned rare, but that wasn't it and she knew it.

Theoretical astrophysics aside, Sam was no geek. She'd recognised the look in O'Neill's eyes before he rolled away. Guilt. That along with the sudden cold after being so warm told her all she needed to know. They'd gotten a lot closer during the night than when she finally drifted asleep, and she hadn't been imagining the intriguing hardness pressing into her pelvis.

The timing stunk, could've hardly been worse, but the answer to the question that had been bugging her since that darned mirror had just presented itself. As unbelievable as it seemed, the Colonel was attracted to her. What scared her most was how damned pleased she felt about it. In the micro-second after recognising what that bulge, swiftly removed, had been, Sam had felt a deeply visceral thrill that had speared right through her.

Picking her way through the undergrowth with brisk efficiency, Sam kept her eyes glued to the ground and ears pricked for sound, while her mind prodded and picked it all apart. Even the memory of that sensual tug had her palms dampening and pulse turning thick with something nameless.

Nameless only because she refused to admit what it was…

Arousal.

There it was out. She'd said it- sorta.

And lightening hadn't struck.

On cue, blue eyes slid up to the moving canopy of green speckled with sunlight. Distracted, Sam didn't see the danger until it was too late. Stepping around a tree with exposed roots and expecting solid matter, she yelped when the ground seemed to just drop out from under her feet. The one saving grace was she didn't properly yell out. If she had she'd have violated just about every protocol relating to escape and evade and her pride would never have recovered.

Training kicking in, she tucked herself into a roll to protect her head. Angling her legs, she used her boots to slow the unexpected descent as branches, twigs and shrubs bit, scratched and snagged at her vest and pants. When she did come to a stop, she had to spit out a mouthful of dry bracken.

It could have been worse. Maybe…

Stunned, but unhurt Sam waited to get her breath back, groaning long and low in her head. Fortunately, or unfortunately, depending on your point of view, She didn't have to wait long for the reaction she was dreading. Godammit! Why couldn't t have been Teal'c she got stuck with? It would have been so much less mortifying.

Jumping down the last of the, thankfully, small gully, O'Neill came to a stand over her and rocked back on his heels. With both gloved hands resting on the butt of his MP5, he glanced between her and the visible evidence of her undignified fall. Under the cap, his expression spoke volumes. So did his thick sigh. "Carter, you're scaring me." His deep voice was heavy with meaning- all of it bad.

She tried, "Sir-"

"Can you spell stealth?" he interrupted in pure snide mode. "I take it you actually attended the part of your basic training dealing with hiding your back trail? Y'know that stuff that helps you elude pursuers."

Sam's jaw clenched and eyes sparking with rage, she picked herself up. "I get the point, Colonel. All I can say is I'm sorry and it won't happen again."

A brow climbed, "You're right, it won't."

Closed, his expression brooked no debate. He jerked a thumb over one shoulder to indicate she should take up the rear. "I'll take point from here, Major. You just concentrate on keeping your balance." His pause was delicate and deliberate, "If you think you can cope with that?"

Sore in ways that was more than physical, her pride pricked savagely at the tone, and the implication. Son of a bitch! He'd been like this since they woke up. Jesus, had he seen something in her face that made him think he needed to put distance between them by pissing her off with his foul mood?

If so it was working. So much for unwanted arousal. She felt like punching him.

"Fine," she gritted and pulled her cheek muscles up into the semblance of a smile.

Meeting unforgiving dark eyes, Sam was suddenly; fiercely glad her strange mood was broken. Mooning over the Colonel in their current circumstances was a really bad idea. In fact, mooning over the Colonel in any circumstances was a bad idea; she tacked on with a grimace when O'Neill had turned away enough he wouldn't catch it.

She seemed to be telling herself to get a grip a lot lately.

o-O-o

"Earth is full of fertile females," pointed out Neer'ah. With her arms folded on the richly polished expanse of wood, she was the picture of calm composure. Quite a feat considering this council meeting had been called expressly to deal with the 'situation' she'd brought about.

Sitting opposite, sleek and dark with liquid brown eyes as her best feature, Councillor Malyne inclined her head, visibly amused, "Yes, but I doubt they'll be so considerate as to send more through."

"This whole thing is beyond ridiculous." Murmurs of agreement came from a few members of the Saluran Council not so easily amused. "One woman's progeny is not worth provoking a whole race."

More than a few influential heads nodded in agreement. Above them golden sunlight streamed in through high, decoratively arched windows cut deep into the stone of the building.

"Provoked or not," asked Malyne with a shrug, genuinely curious rather than sneering, "What can they do?"

The same dissenter spoke up again. "Just because the humans of Earth don't have the capability for space travel now, it doesn't mean they won't acquire it soon," pale brows rose to emphasise the next point, "or have allies who already can."

Not liking the direction of that leading statement, Neer'ah sought to retake the reigns of the debate, "You're speculating not to mention doom-saying as per usual, Shallen. Right from the beginning they admitted freely that we're significantly more advanced-"

"Perhaps, Neer'ah, but you're missing the point," said Morgana.

Around the table, patience had worn thin for more than a few of the members. The interruption from the head of the council was barely disguised. She continued, "From what we've heard previously, the people of Earth have befriended races that are both superior and advanced to them technologically, perhaps also to us."

It was obvious to one and all that the decision had been made before the members had even convened. Still, there was an expectant pause, "I agree with, Shallen, we should find them and return them unharmed to their world."

The lively debate escalated into one, last, rising babble of arguing voices.

Until…

"I think I should mention," announced Rayna in a ringing tone loud enough to rise above it all. "That the bounty has already been announced, increased and communicated throughout Salura as well as all of our neighbours."

Instantly every gaze swung her way. The silence was deafening. That coupled with the quasi ecclesiastical appearance of the hall gave the atmosphere a heavy, spell-binding aspect.

"So, for all intents and purposes the hunt is already on," Rayna's words fell like splinters of glass into the stunned quiet, "and has been since Major Carter escaped yesterday."

Until that moment, she'd been suspiciously silent during the meeting and now the reason for that was perfectly understood. A fist thumped on the table. "You had no right…"

"I had every right to protect the good name and status of my family, Morgana. Neer'ah has placed herself in my hands, and as her matriarch, I invoke The Rule of Shre Laminia."

Consternation and whispers raced from council member to be council member. Nostrils flaring as she hauled on the reins of her rage, Morgana sat stiffly back in her chair and forced her fingers to relax around the worn smooth ends of the chair's arms. Finally, she managed a thin smile. "You've done this in the hope of preventing a vote of no confidence being presented against your sister as a result of this latest… debacle."

The battle lines were now officially drawn.

Inclining her head, Rayna didn't bother with a denial, simply stating, "As the head of my family, I also have the right to see Neer'ah's actions through to a favourable conclusion." Softly and laced with ruthlessness, she stared Morgana down and said, "And by law you may not interfere."

o-O-o

Jack knew she was steamed with him, had actually intended that she be.

He hadn't been kidding when he'd said she was scaring him. Carter was acting weird and in the circumstances that was a very bad thing. At the beginning he might have expected some flakiness given the useless-geek-scientist label he'd slapped on her, but two years later he knew he couldn't do better than having Sam watch his six going into battle. Well, normally anyway. She was being very un-Carterish and if he had to attack her pride to get her back on track- then so be it. She could kick his ass later and he'd probably enjoy it.

Sick, O'Neill

Blow me.

"Sir?"

"Yeah."

It was the first words spoken between them for several hours.

"Can you feel that hum?"

Hum? Turning on his heel to look back at Carter, O'Neill was about to ask what she was talking about when he felt it. It was the tiniest vibration in the air that felt just like the hum of a building electrical charge.

"It feels like static," he said, "and my hairs are all on end." He lifted his forearm to prove the point.

Gazes locked, he saw Carter's eyes widen with horror. "Get down!" she yelled and lightening reflexes meant he hit the deck just as she lifted the MP5 and let loose with a volley over his head.

Swinging around and shifting on his butt, O'Neill caught sight of the target and brought his own weapon into play. Unfortunately, they didn't need to ID the guy. They'd already met back in Salura. He was one of Neer'ah's bounty hunters. How he'd found them, they'd figure out later.

Hot lead spat out orange from both muzzles, but instead of ripping into the big guy's green and orange body armour, and maybe stirring up some of the forest around him, the bullets splatted uselessly into some kind of force-field between them and the hunter.

Oh, crap! Not good. Not good at all!

Kicking out with his feet in the dirt, O'Neill propelled himself backwards and closer to Carter. "Get out of here," he hollered over the din of the rifles automatic fire. "Retreat- now!"

"I can't," she yelled back and Jack's heart sank, "I've tried to, but there's some kind of force-field around us. I think we stepped into a trap." He could guess what was coming, "Now we're inside it, we can't get out."

Typical! "Oh, for cryin' out…" he bit it off in frustration. The guns fell silent as they accepted the futility of continuing to waste ammo.

Almost as if he'd heard them, the bounty hunter took that as a signal to prove he was not so restricted. Unfortunately his own weapon pierced the field first and was discharged before Jack could do more than think about the possibility of getting the bastard when he was inside with them.

Sam's scream of wrathful denial was the last thing he heard before a sledgehammer of white-out pain slammed into him.

o-O-o

George Hammond stared down at the stargate as if willpower alone might bring his people walking through its shimmering waters. It was late, but even knowing there was little he could do between now and the few hours remaining until morning, he didn't abandon his vigil.

SG-7 had failed to reach any kind of satisfactory solution and had reported back their failure several hours ago. The Salurans, he'd been told were being unusually uncooperative. Now there was a surprise.

This wasn't the first time SG.1 had gotten lost somehow, but this time felt different. Hammond couldn't pin it down exactly. All he knew was that deep inside his gut roiled and hope for a positive resolution quaked and died a little bit more. He didn't want either Colonel O'Neill or Major Carter to be spending another night on that godforsaken planet.

"General?" enquired a familiar, deep voice.

Turning from the window, Hammond relaxed fists he hadn't even known he'd clenched. "Teal'c," he acknowledged and almost smiled when he turned and saw Daniel Jackson step out from behind his large friend. "And Dr Jackson," he added, "what can I do for you?"

He asked out of politeness and more to get it out of the way than any need to know what it was they wanted. He'd already promised the grim Jaffa that if negotiations didn't achieve results quickly, he would allow Teal'c to go back through the gate and rip the damned place apart if he had to. Hell, he may well be joining him, thought Hammond grimly.

A few feet away, Teal'c raised a brow at the obviousness but refrained from commenting; instead silently deferred to his remaining comrade-in-arms of the Tauri.

Daniel caught the silent prod and stopped his nervous, last minute flicking of pages within the overstuffed file he'd brought with him. "Oh, um…yes," Straightening to his full height; blue eyes earnest and frown in place, the young archaeologist and now would-be warrior dived right in.

"I," belatedly, he pointed at Teal'c, "Or rather we, heard how it went with SG-7-"

As if by consensus they all stopped to wince…

"and I think I may have found just the person to help us negotiate with the Salurans," he said and for all his earlier fumbling, pulled out a newspaper clipping with unerring accuracy from the pile.

He handed it over to the waiting General. "Her name is Rebecca Stanislow from England. She's a bit young, I know, but she's already got a name for herself in the field of anthropology."

"England?" Hammond echoed in disbelief. "Surely we have someone closer. As in from this country?"

"Not with her…um," Daniel cocked his head thoughtfully while a strange, guilty light flitting over the deep blue of his gaze, "unique attributes, no."

Oh, here we go. Hammond managed to quell the tiny smile threatening to break out over his face. What is it about hope that it never dies and springs back up at the damned, stupidest things? "I think you'd better explain, Dr Jackson." He nodded to the briefing table, "Why don't you both have a seat."

o-O-o

Jack woke to find himself alone. Which in itself was not unusual. Then reality crashed in and he was instantly swamped by a cold horrified sweat. "Carter! God, no!"

Rolling over and staggering to unsteady feet, his panicked gaze sought and found evidence of what had happened to his 2INC. Her rifle lay on the ground, along with the Zat, Beretta with clips and her hunting knife. Jesus, the damned bounty hunter had disarmed her and left them all behind- as if Jack posed no threat whatsoever.

A quick run of one hand over his own gear confirmed he was still armed, too. Okay, he had his own weapons, but still the same principle applied. Did the sonfabitch seriously think he wouldn't bother going after them, or was he so confident it wouldn't matter even if he did?

It didn't matter either way. "Whatever. The asshole's about to find out different."

The ground blurred and swayed as O'Neill pushed himself up from the semi crouch enough that he could stand straight; that done, he forced the disorientation to recede and sucked in deep, angry breaths. Sluggishness swiped away by adrenaline, his mind raced.

At least they were both alive and in one piece. Jack was pissed and armed and judging by the position of the sun he'd only been unconscious for about half an hour. All in all there was still a good chance he could catch up and rescue Carter before she got transported back to the city. Assuming the guy had some means of transport nearby. Not an easy thing to have in a thickly forested area like this one.

Which was exactly why he'd had chosen this route. Spotting his cap on the grass, he swiped it up, positioned it and set off. Which was the right thing to do, except there was one problem O'Neill hadn't anticipated and only found out about within a few feet though.

In the middle of taking a step, he felt like he'd walked into a wall of excruciating pain. Dimly, he heard a scream, and recoiling forcefully from the agony ripping through him. Jack only knew it had been him when he fell to his ass and curled into a ball. "Shit!" he groaned and winced at the rawness of his throat.

Now he knew why the bounty hunter hadn't given a rat's ass if Jack was armed. The force field was still very much in operation and he was a prisoner. "Well, this is just great!" he snarled, "am I supposed to grateful, I only nearly got turned into a crispy critter?"

Spread-eagled on the floor with clumps of grass digging into his back, Jack felt like killing something just to relieve some frustration. He was screwed. Or, more accurately, Carter was.

HEY! Don't even think it.

When cows jump over the moon, pigs fly, yada yada yada. He didn't really have to think about it. He surged upright and scowled. "Not gonna happen."

Okay, great. He had an objective and now all he had to do was try and be the brainiac for once and figure out how to disable the 'field. Crap. He needed Carter. "Well, duh!"

"Hello…"

O'Neill stood and whirled so fast he almost made himself dizzy. MP5 raised and ready to fire, he stalked closer and scrutinised the owner of the voice. Pale, bald male who was shortish, plumpish and few other things that made him think 'ish'. "And you would be?" Jack queried softly. He didn't lower the MP5.

The man looked ready to bolt, "My name is Alman. I mean you no harm."

Feeling the infinitesimal increase in electricity that he figured signified the edge of his 'prison', Jack felt a surge of impotent fury at the knowledge that this guy was in his sight, but totally out of reach of even the powerful rifle.

"I'd say the same," he retorted and dropped the useless rifle, "except we both know I don't have much choice in the matter."

"That is true," said Alman, "at least until I disable the lasers that create the fields."

Laserlike themselves, dark brown eyes zeroed in on washed out blue. "You can do that?" Jack asked pleasantly and with a charming, 'I'm-a-big-softie-really' smile. "Just switch it off at the flick of a switch?"

"Of course," Alman said, blinking in instinctive alarm at the smile, "although I should mention that I will not do so until my master has informed me that he and the woman are safely aboard our vessel."

"Really?" The smile slipped into feral, Jack's chin lifted, "Right, of course. We don't want me escaping and screwing up your boss' little abduction scenario."

"Um, precisely," Alman saw the hard face getting closer; unnerved despite the force-field, he swallowed hard and stammered. "Sir, please don't get any closer, or you'll be hurt. I have warned you."

"And I appreciate that warning," said Jack, adding dangerously soft, "Alman."

"Yes,"

"Don't take another step back."

"Why not?"

"Because then I'll have to…" a long, strong arm shot out, pierced the 'field and fastened around Alman's chubby neck, "…do this." Teeth gritted against the searing pain, Jack yanked his arm back and dragged the now squealing man inside with him.

Dropping the heavy weight as his arm went into a rebellious spasm from what he'd just put it through, Jack cradled it and using a boot, toed Alman over so he could see his face. It wasn't a pretty sight. If he felt bad from just his arm, he could imagine what the smaller man was feeling- the funny thing was, he didn't give a crap.

Desperate times called for desperate measures.

"Stop blubbering," he ordered harshly over the babbling moans and wails, "And now you're in here, too, you and me are gonna have a chat about how we disable those lasers- like NOW!"

Sam found herself leading the way again. Only this time she was wearing some kind of collar and the 'man', she used the term loosely, behind her was an alien. More, one whose face she couldn't even guess at through the concealing helmet. Overall, she was tired, stressed and worried about both herself and the Colonel. The spasms that had wracked him when the blast hit had managed to make a zat blast look like a tickle.

Her own shot had only stunned and it had been no walk in the park, so she could imagine how Colonel O'Neill must have been feeling when he woke up. If he woke up. On cue her guts did some serious clenching when that sliver of doubt slipped through her mental defences.

Shut-up, Sam, she told herself fiercely. Blindly skirting around a tree that refused to follow the semi uniform pattern of the rest, she told herself Jack O'Neill was too tough and irascible to let a little bolt of electricity do him in. Her own predicament forgotten for a moment, she snorted. He was used to it by now. In fact a few weeks ago he'd been talking abut getting a hair cut because he was so sick of having it stand on end after getting zatted.

The memory helped and some muscles loosened. Behind her twigs snapped as her captor followed close behind. Sam concentrated on not losing hope now it had decided to rear its head again.

He was going to be alright. They both were. Hell, they'd been in worse situations more times than she liked to remember. And at least this time they weren't being turned into hosts or popsicles like Hathor had tried a few months ago. More than anything, she refused to accept that a world as crazy and culturally retarded as Sulura could be the one to defeat SG-1.

A shove in the middle of her back brought her crashing back to the here and now. Right, reality check. Sam bit back a retort and kept her eyes to the ground.

Where was I? Oh, yeah, the colonel; freedom, liberty, survival and not getting turned over to Neer'ah. Frustration clawed, clenching her guts. Damn it! So much for evading capture until General Hammond could negotiate for peace, or send re-enforcements.

All of which was moot with her being held captive. She had to get free and then go and find Colonel O'Neill. Two very simple strategic objectives that looked just about impossible right now. Seeing the shadows lengthen, she figured sufficient time had passed for her to appear cowed enough to try improving that assessment.

"We've been walking for a while now and you still haven't said where we're going." She pointed out, talking over one shoulder. "C'mon would it hurt to give me that much at least?"

She was careful not to make any moves that could be construed as attempting an escape. Her palms were still sore from where she'd grazed them in a fall following a brief and very painful demonstration of what the collar could do if she tried anything. At the push of a button, it delivered an agonising charge to her body that was paralysing in its intensity. She'd gotten the message loud and clear.

"You are my prisoner, Major Carter," was the flat and tinny reply, "I owe you nothing, and that includes any type of explanation."

The not-so-great speaker on the helmet was one of a number of indicators that this race of whatever they were, were not that advanced. Sure, they used electrical power to create weapons and force-fields, but after some of the stuff Sam had seen along with SG-1 in the last few years, the technology was a little clumsy.

Not sure what good that opinion did her, Sam decided to risk it and push a little. Climbing back up the small gully she'd tumbled down earlier, she felt a stab of something akin to nostalgia. God! She hoped the colonel was okay.

"Let me guess, then," she said and waited with her shoulders proudly squared at the top, "There aren't any clearings around here big enough to land a ship. Meaning we have to hike to wherever it is you have…parked it, am I right?"

The bounty hunter drew level with her after two strong strides up. Facing the helmet's blank, black panels where the eyes would have been, Sam tensed at the vicious vibe that still managed to reach her through it. "I will not tolerate insolence from a creature about to become a slave," the voice said darkly, "If you will not be silent without encouragement, I will happily provide the encouragement."

In other words, shut-up or I'll hurt you. Sadistic bastard. Refusing to be cowed but cautious enough to know when a battle couldn't possibly be won under present circs, Sam kept her expression neutral; then shrugging, pantomimed locking her lips and throwing away the key.

Inside, she promised herself that the second the opportunity presented itself, she was going to get that damned remote and feed it to him. Assuming he had a mouth of course. If not she'd improvise, Sam thought grimly.


	2. Chapter 2

o-O-o

The blast doors were down, closing in the briefing room. The silence was distinctly uncomfortable with only Teal'c appearing unaffected. When the General's office door opened, Daniel Jackson gave a thick sigh of relief and then hoped the woman opposite him hadn't heard.

Smart if casual in the short-sleeved blue shirt, the General took his seat with a gracious smile, "Dr Stanislow, welcome to Cheyenne Mountain. I'm General Hammond, the commander of this facility," his proffered hand was shaken. He nodded at Daniel, "I assume Dr Jackson has briefed you on the high points?"

Wincing, Daniel jumped in before their guest could frame a reply. "I've explained that we were hoping that she would accompany us on a journey, one which would end with her being able to see the workings of a matriarchal society in operation."

"A dangled carrot that not only seems unlikely, but makes me suspicious in the extreme," advised, Dr Stanislow dryly. Blue eyes under some mid brown bangs were arch and cool, "And which frankly doesn't go far in making up for being strong-armed away from an important Symposium being held in Chicago. Did I forget to mention I don't like being bullied?"

"Strong-armed?" queried, Hammond, surprised and none too happy.

"Ah, apparently the local boys forgot their manners when they picked Dr Stanislow up," explained Daniel. "From what I gather there wasn't much choice offered."

"Try none at all," she inserted with undiluted sarcasm. "Trust me, I was impressed by the sheer lack of options left to me."

Middle thirties according to the file and remarkably attractive in her own casually dismissive, haphazard way, Rebecca Stanislow sat with her arms tightly crossed and didn't even try and hide her brimming hostility.

"That's unfortunate," said Hammond heavily, "and I can only apologise for the way you've been treated. I assure you that wasn't in the plan." He met Dr Jackson's forcibly blank look and tried to keep his pessimism at a minimum, "I hope this won't deter you from helping us?"

He met her gaze fully. In his experience simple, sincere politeness went a long way towards soothing ruffled feathers.

"Nicely put," a brow arched. "You don't know much about me do you?"

The tone suggested he should have done his homework. "Um," Hammond looked to Daniel who gave him a sick smile. He turned back, "Only that you are an expert on matriarchal societies, if a little…" searchingly he waved a hand, "…controversial."

Out of the blue the atmosphere changed. She laughed, a loud belly laugh that was 100 genuine. "Controversial, he says," her grin encompassed them all. "Well, that's one way of putting it, I suppose."

"I believe you haven't answered our question, Dr Stanislow," interrupted Teal'c, "Will you help us."

Holding up a sheepish hand, Daniel tacked on, "As in letting bygones be bygones on how you got here."

Full, unglossed lips opened to answer and then shut on a sigh. "I must be insane for saying this…in fact, I'll add a disclaimer in that it depends on what help it is you want from me. I still don't understand how the US Airforce needs the assistance of a somewhat 'controversial' anthropologist."

She was speaking to the General, but it was Teal'c, perhaps feeling the passing of time, who answered in his unique, no-frills way, "It is very simple, Dr Stanislow, we need you to help us free our friends from oppression, danger and perhaps death."

There was stunned silence. "No pressure then," she said faintly. Then added with blunt candour, "Mind you, I much prefer the direct approach to beating around the bush."

Sweeping them all a questioning glance, she asked, "What's up. You people find a remote tribe buried in the jungle somewhere and inexplicably and oh so predictably manage to upset the natives enough to get kidnapped?"

"Um, not exactly, no."

o-O-o

"How did you know it was possible to do that?"

Since Alman was feeling his neck, Jack guessed what he was talking about. "I've come across a few force-fields in the last few years. I figured the pain element was a deterrent to trying out a big fat weakness," Tugging the cap lower, he tossed the man a grim smile, "And I was right. Cheap 'field if you ask me."

The slow encroach of evening had the shadows lengthening as the light grew dimmer with every quarter hour. With Carter's weapons as well as his own, he was fairly clanking. So much so that when they got closer to their target area he was going to have to dump and bury some of it. Right now though and pissed by just about everything, he worked on not growling when he demanded, "So tell me about your boss. Such as his name for starters."

Already drenched with sweat and with flags of bright red on rounded cheeks, it was pretty obvious the alien man was not used to exercise, never mind an enforced march through a forest. Gamely he answered between puffs of breath, "His name is Belgna and he is a fierce and cunning bounty hunter."

Jack was unimpressed, "Beluga, huh, I thought I could smell fish, and could you get any more rote?"

"I said Belgna and…pardon me?"

He'd meant the spiel the man had been intoning, but Jack figured it wasn't worth explaining. "Never mind, I'm just thinkin' out loud here."

A few minutes of silent trudging and Alman couldn't keep quiet any longer, "What are your plans, sir, if you don't mind me asking?"

You can ask, thought, Jack. Potentially surrounded by hostiles, and feeling more than a little hostile himself, he kept his right hand close to the trigger guard of his MP5, "Actually, I do mind. Go figure."

That put the shorter, plumper man off for several beats. Then tentatively he asked, "In that case may I guess?"

Since he was merely being petty, Jack shrugged and sighed, "Knock yourself out."

"You plan to use me to find Belgna's ship in the hope that you can catch up and ambush him to save your friend."

As stunning revelations went, that wasn't one.

"Wow! Seriously, I'm impressed," As Jack watched, Alman swelled with pride until he continued, "And what gave it away? The fact that I'm forcing you at gunpoint to take me to the ship, armed to the teeth and with murder in my eye?"

His captive deflated. "You're being sarcastic," accused the alien.

"Always." Unrepentant and speeding up, Jack waved him on with the rifle, "Less chatter and more walking, Alman. I have a big date with fish-egg guy and don't plan on being late."

Frown lines dug consternated lines between thin brows. "Sir, that may be unavoidable. They have a head-"

Shocked and blinking furiously, Alman bit the rest off when he found himself grabbed and hauled up by a fist dug into the cloth of his tunic. Pinned by a wrathful glare, he noted a strange cold, slithering sensation in his bowels that was mentally filed away for later analysis.

Sure he had the man's full attention, Jack made his position crystal clear. Index finger raised in warning, he said, "Ah, ah, don't even say it, 'cause I promise you won't like what'll happen if I don't get Carter back…," he let him go with a shove and finished, " i today /i ."

He wouldn't consider getting there too late. Carter was the savviest person he knew. She'd know to dig in her heels and slow them down.

o-O-o

Sam hit the dirt and, rolling over, let out a hiss of pain that she hoped was convincing. "Ow!" she groaned for additional insurance when a pair of boots stepped into her line of sight. Gaze travelling up, she was met with those blank dark plates in the helmet and wished she could smash them. Oh, what she wouldn't give for a tire iron right now.

The bounty hunter's whole outfit was bright coloured, looked vaguely like leather and was apparently seamless. Obviously camouflage and fading into the scenery was a big no-no where he came from.

"I've hurt my ankle," she told him and stayed where she was.

"This a ruse," he said and without any notable shred of pity. The remote to the collar around Sam's neck materialised in one hand. Another silent warning.

He was stood perhaps 2ft from where she was semi-sprawled on mud and dried out pine needles. Conifers had replaced deciduous trees a ways back. She didn't recognise any of the forest now, certain that she and the colonel hadn't come this way earlier. The bounty hunter must have veered them off that course a couple of clicks back.

Logically that suggested they had to be getting close to their destination. Meaning she was running out of time. It was also getting dark, with the colder bite signalling the onset of dusk.

That and seeing the remote, visible and reachable, made up Sam's mind. Raising up on her elbows, she injected some impatience into her voice and pretended to vent a little, "It's not a ruse and what do you think I can do anyway," she kept a straight face, "I'm a woman; a scientist not a soldier. I'm not used to this crap. I mean, geeze, I work in a lab most of the time."

Unable to see any expression, she had no idea if he was buying it until he hunkered down and reached for her booted feet. Sam struck before he touched her. Her hand connected with the one of his holding the remote, smacking it away so that it went sailing into the undergrowth on their right.

Then scissoring her legs into position, Sam raised them wrapped the bounty hunters head in a leglock. Unbalancing and slamming him down on the ground, she jack-knifed to sit up and brought clenched fists down on his solar plexus; all the while praying his physiology was similar to what she was used to fighting.

He gave a grunt, but didn't curl up winded and defenceless liked she'd hoped. Dammit! "Tough Guy, huh?"

Sensing the tightening of muscles that meant he was recovering from surprise and preparing to fight back, Sam dived for the weapon he'd used on her and Jack. Then kicking herself away, scrabbled frantically backwards to get some distance to use it.

Even then she was almost too late. He was a fast bastard and was all but on her before she could raise the unfamiliar weapon and figure out what was the trigger. Strung out on adrenaline, Sam felt like her heart would burst. Seeing him bearing down on her, she found a section of the handle with some give and squeezed. She was in luck. The bolt of energy caught the bounty hunter mid-chest and this time the effect was a lot more satisfactory.

Through the white steam of her own panting breaths, Sam watched him topple, crashing to his knees and then the floor with one outstretched arm almost smacking her in the face.

Her throat had been so dry swallowing hurt. It was done. She sagged with relief and reddened lids slid closed. God! That was way too close. In the aftermath of the adrenaline she started to get the shakes and got to her feet to head them off. That was the worst thing about terror, Sam knew, it wasn't feeling it during a confrontation that knocked you for six; she was trained to get over that and still defend herself, no it was the reaction afterwards that she hated.

Curious and needing to know if he was dead or just unconscious, Sam crawled over and cautiously searched for whatever fastenings kept the helmet in place. Finding a few seals, she broken them and nearly had a heart attack at the out-rush of compressed air that escaped.

Whoa! Shades of predator here or what. Refusing to think about movies and monsters, she prised the helmet off the head and shuddered with relief seeing a normal, if incredibly pale, human face. The pallor she figured could be down to the fact that he was dead after a check of vitals revealed there was no air escaped the sealed lips and not so much as a hint of pulse in the man's neck.

It was over. She'd killed him. Unexpected, but still…"Payback, asshole!"

Climbing to her feet, Sam felt a hundred with all of the aches. Refusing to let her knees stay jello-like, she stiffened them and stalked over to where the remote had gotten tossed. First things first, the damned collar was coming off, pronto! Then she had to backtrack and find the colonel.

A few seconds later a glance at the sky showed the encroaching darkness as the Saluran sun began its decent to the far horizon.

No rest for the wicked.

Grimacing, Sam gusted out a sigh and started trudging back the way they'd come, tucking both the remote and the bounty hunters energy gun into the pockets of her BDU's. She'd give it an hour and then find somewhere to bed down.

She had just disappeared behind the first of many towering conifers, when pale, thin lids snapped open, revealing grey, milky depths and a lack of emotion that would have turned Sam's blood to ice.

The green, earthy tones of the forest started to take on a grey tinge. As dusk neared, the rich colours faded as if leeched away by a sun now sunk low in the sky. On the cusp of twilight, Sam was still blinded occasionally by the sun's last stubborn finale as she picked her way over gnarled tree roots and treacherous undergrowth.

Hand up again to shield her eyes from the bright if dying golden rays coming from between two trees ahead, she heard something that sent alarm skittering up her spine. She froze and hunkering down to present a smaller target; cocked her head while straining to listen minutely. It wasn't the first time she'd heard that sound or something similar; a twig snapping, dry leaves and needles crunching or maybe the swish of air between striding legs.

She was being followed by someone. More importantly, judging by the increasing clarity of those sporadic sounds the hunter was closing in. She figured that since the sounds where coming from behind her it could only be the bounty hunter.

Well…damn! So much for the him being dead scenario. Obviously their physiology was more different than she'd surmised.

Rising again, she gusted out a sigh, "Figures. The way my luck's going he's probably a cat with nine lives," she grimaced at the idea and thinking that scenario left her with eight still to go.

Using the bulk of a tree trunk to hide her body, Sam searched the parts of forest she'd just left and shivered when the whistling breeze gusted stronger for a second, moaning a complaint between the swaying, fluttering leafy branches. It was darker back the way she'd come and staring into it only made that creeped-out chill worse.

God! What she wouldn't do to have the rest of the guys fanned out around her. Teal'c with his silent bulk; Daniel's sometimes surprising capacity for realising when pacifism was going to get them killed, and then of course there was that unique brand of Jack O'Neill leadership to give you a kick up the rear and boost your confidence. Or maybe she meant recklessness, Sam couldn't decide.

Just knowing they were there would be incredibly reassuring, that and the knowledge she wasn't facing the virtual unknown alone.

Oh yeah, there was nothing like a bit of positive thinking to make you despair. "Get a grip, Carter," she muttered to herself. "Next thing you'll be scared of the dark."

Momentary fears firmly quashed, Sam knew she had a decision to make. As in, arrange an ambush or try to out run him. It didn't take much thought to decide which was the better option. Basically it came down to one simple thing. On her own like she was, she had to defend her six. If she didn't, Sam might end up forced into a confrontation just when she could least afford one.

Pushing away from the rough bark, she headed towards a small clearing she remembered from earlier. It would do fine for an ambush. Not too tightly enclosed that she risked losing him in the trees, or, so exposed she gave herself away before she was ready.

At least she'd gotten rid of the collar and had his weapon with her. Those two little facts gave her the advantage as far as Sam was concerned. Or, at least, she hoped so.

By her reckoning, she had a few minutes lead and she used them to the fullest. By the time that easily recognisable figure with the ghostly place face came striding into view, Sam was invisible. Lying on the earth floor, face streaked with mud and her cap jammed down to cover her bright blonde hair, she couldn't stop the instinctive shimmy backwards when the bounty hunter got close enough to be seen properly.

Repulsed when those watery, milky eyes swung in her direction, Sam levelled his own weapon on him and fired, twice. Since escaping, she'd dialed it up to maximum and judging by the fried remains of a rodent she'd tested it on, the first shot should have been fatal to the point of crispy critter.

Both were direct hits and he hit the deck…for all of 10 seconds before getting up again and this time heading directly for her.

The smell was disgusting, and …Jesus, was that his eye sockets smoking?! "Oh boy!"

Scrambling to her feet, Sam backed hastily away and let loose with a third shot. Even without expecting much, her heart sank seeing it did little more than knock the alien back a few feet. For some reason the affects of each hit were decreasing. It was almost as if the man/thing was building up a tolerance to the electricity.

"And the good times just keep rollin'"

If nothing else her time with the colonel had taught her to use sarcasm as a buffer between her and terror. It worked surprisingly well. Sam kept her cool and turning on one heel made a beeline for a tree break ahead. Hearing the crashing pursuit, she ran through her options analytically.

Not that there was much to run through unfortunately. Arms pumping and dodging branches and tree trunks like a maniac, Sam focused on speed and stretched her stride as much as she dared. Forty minutes or so later and she was tiring and wet through from a rainstorm. The heavy dollops of water had begun falling not long after she began running for her life. Labouring for breath after being at full pelt for so long, she felt her right foot wobble on a rock threatening to send her sprawling. Saving herself that time, Sam knew she had to rest before the exhausted shaking in her legs got worse.

The problem was that it was still there behind her and nothing she did was shaking it loose. It was full dark now and add to that the sodden ground and she was just as likely to fall and break her neck as get killed by a pissed off alien.

Like a match to touchpaper, Sam's temper erupted. Hearing the relentless pursuit close in again, her lips pulled back in a snarl and without thinking it through she snatched up a long, stout branch off the mossy floor. Weapon in hand, she fell to her knees, and head hanging as if in defeated exhaustion waited for the alien to catch-up.

Screw this! It was time to stop running.

Steam curled up from her clothes as her body heat fought off the cold of night. Hands wrapped around the branch hard enough to turn the knuckles white, all she could think was goddammit! How dared he? How dared any of them? She was tired of this crap! She'd beat the bastard to death if she had, too.

Riding on a crest of adrenaline, Sam waited until the last second. Ignoring the crawling of her skin at feeling that presence again, she came up swinging and with a cry of rage erupting from between gritted teeth. Like a pro batter she used a two handed grip and felt the wood connect with a brutal power that shot satisfying vibrations up both arms.

Driven to the edge by the events of the last few days there wasn't an ounce of mercy left in Major Sam Carter. Mocked, trivialised, humiliated, sent running and hunted like a dog while her friends and team where shot at and hurt; caught, electrocuted and marched at gunpoint towards slavery of the worst kind…she'd had enough!

Now in the middle of a pitch battle the face that turned back towards her had flaps of skin hanging loose down the side she'd struck. It was a grotesque, grisly sight. She didn't care. Teeth bared, spittle flew as she yelled hoarsely, "SCREW YOU!"

Gathering her strength, she swung again and nearly sent herself careening off with the follow through when the alien managed to take evasive action. She was beyond caring about that either. Hand-to-hand training flooded her mind and she slammed back an elbow. Pain exploded, shooting up from the abused bone when it connected with a chin, but it worked enough to prevent the bounty hunter from wrapping its arms around her from the rear.

Gaining a few inches, she repeated the move again for good measure and then dived to the side. She landed in the midst of a nimble roll that gained her a few crucial feet of distance. Unfortunately, it also gave her a better view of that ravaged face as it tracked her. Despite the darkness and falling rain the sight was so shocking it blasted right through the fog of rage.

Ragged strips of flesh had ripped from one cheekbone and all the way down to the jawline, revealing the facial structure in all its metal glory; excluding bone-coloured teeth. Her breath froze in her chest. Holy Crap! She wasn't battling with a humanoid, but an android.

Shaken, Sam backed away, boots sinking in the mud as the rain soaked the earth. "Oh, this is way too Terminator for me."

Where was a handy forge when you needed one?

The shock of the realisation cost her a lot of momentum and when it lunged for her again, Sam slipped and lost her footing. She went down with a piercing yell of panic and instinct had her bringing up her hands to lock around its neck. Being up close and personal to that face was the last thing she wanted thanks very much.

Not that she got much of a choice in the matter.

Finger clawed at her as she heaved and pushed up with all of her might. It made no difference. Despair crawled up from the recesses of her mind and perched at the edges of her consciousness. Sobbing a denial, Sam squirmed as the crushing weight of the thing pressing into her legs and pelvis. The fact that it made no sound; leaving only her grunts and panting breaths to break the silence was uniquely terrifying.

All too soon the endless minutes of desperate wrestling in the mud had defeat swamping her in a wave strong enough to pull away the last remains of her lagging will. She could get no purchase with her feet no matter how hard she dug in her heels, and to make matters worse they were going numb from cold and weight of her inhuman adversary.

At that moment it started to sink in that she was going to die.

A black pit yawned as the thing mirrored her and wrapped crushing fingers around her throat. Alone, lost in an alien forest in the driving rain at night it should have been the end. The heavy thud that dislodged some of the weight off her confused Sam for a moment. Then it came again and she realised what it was; a second powerful kick to the bounty hunters torso. That, added to the snarled profanity in a voice she recognised sent a dizzying wave of relief crashing through her system.

A bubble of semi hysterical laughter clogged in her chest. After 33 years nothing had ever sounded so good.

Blinking away rain, she saw a pistol whip across the androids ruined face in a savage blow. The new assault stunned it into finally releasing her from its grip and it fell to the side. In a daze from the turnabout, she felt a hard hand grasp her by the collar to haul her out from under the stunned bounty hunter. Then pressed to a solid chest with his arm wrapped around her head to protect her ears, she heard the defeaning sound of gunfire and felt the small, telling recoil in O'Neill's braced body.

He was shooting it at point blank range. God, she hoped it worked.

O'Neill cursed again and began to backup in a hurry. That cleared some of her daze. Needing to help, Sam kicked out with her legs to crawl away with him as the colonel continued to fire at the thing. When the gunfire finally paused and nasal passages stinging from the acrid stench of gunpowder, she craned her to see what was going on.

There wasn't anything going on. It was over. It took several seconds of staring at the remains of the androids face before the belief it was finally dead was allowed to sink in.

It was over. She sagged against a solid body that felt like the safest resting place in the galaxy. "It's dead," O'Neill reassured over her head. He didn't take his wary gaze off it though and amended that to a worried, "I think."

Ruefully, she smiled at the disclaimer. "Ya think?" she murmured and lifted her head to get an unobstructed view of her CO. Later she might try and kid herself it was relief that made him look so incredibly good. He'd lost his cap somewhere. Soaked through his hair was more iron that silver while from above starlight traced the spectacular bone structure of his face. Oh yeah! He was looking mighty fine, especially loaded for bear like he was. Her cheekbone throbbed from being crushed into one of the pair of MP5's; hardly surprising since he was practically bristling with armoury.

Wet and cold, she felt a spurt of warmth and quashed it. Still her smile was bright, "If you don't mind me saying…You're a sight for sore eyes, colonel."

Tucking in his chin to peer down at her, he gave a return, tip tilted smile and a twinkle entered nearly black eyes as they skimmed over her. "Thanks, I'd say the same for you, except, well, you're a mess, Carter."

Given she'd been rolling around in the mud in one way or another for over an hour, she could just imagine what she looked like. Light-headed as adrenaline drained, Sam accepted his offer of a hand to pull herself back to her feet. "Gee, thanks, it's good to know I suit the 'back-to-nature' look."

o-O-o

There was a knock on his door. In the middle of packing a knapsack of research materials for the trip back to Salura, Daniel didn't bother looking up. "Come in."

Sensing unfamiliarity, he looked up and met inquisitive blue grey eyes. "Dr Jackson," greeted Rebecca Stanislow from the now open doorway. The brown mane of hair was still loose and unrestrained. However, she was now dressed in the civilian version of the BDU's and from his point of view, filled them out nicely.

Down boy! Friends in trouble etc., etc. Jack and Sam need rescuing, remember?!

"Daniel, please," he said and straightening invited her in with a wave of a hand.

From his seat at a table fairly groaning under the weight of numerous artefacts, Teal'c inclined his head in a silent, dignified greeting.

"Thanks," walking cautiously inside and closing the door behind her, she said, "and since we're being so friendly you can call me Rebecca."

Sensing she hadn't dropped in for mere chit chat before embarking on the journey of her life, Daniel nodded and waited for her to elaborate.

She didn't keep them in suspense. "I'm told we have an hour before we go through this stargate of yours," the expression on her face suggested she was waiting to see it to believe it, "and I'd like to use some of that time with you telling me all the things you didn't say in that meeting with your General Hammond."

"I didn't hold anything back." Daniel said cautiously, "At least not that I'm aware of." He glanced at Teal'c for support and saw the same confusion mirrored on his face. At least, he assumed it was confusion that raised that single brow. With Teal'c you could never tell for sure.

"Maybe not deliberately," refuted Rebecca with a wry smile, "But knowing something of the subject matter and suspecting how uncomfortable a topic it might be for military minds, I'm betting there are a few details that got left out to spare some blushes."

Daniel frowned, "Such as?"

He hadn't meant it as a challenge, but she took it as one and she arched a brow of her own. "Such as what makes this Colonel O'Neill of yours so incendiary." Her grin was quick, "Is he hot or something?"

There was a pause, "Hot?" queried Daniel slowly, looking and feeling lost. "I can't say I've thought about it."

"Hot?" interjected Teal'c in turn; his deep voice rife with genuine curiosity, "What has temperature to do with a person?"

At Daniel's helpless look, he clarified, "I have heard this phrase used in reference to you, myself and O'Neill more than once." Tilting his bald, handsome head thoughtfully, he added, "Major Carter, too."

There was a muffled snicker of laughter. Both men looked towards the amused woman. "Oh well, that answers that one then," still chuckling Rebecca took a seat. "And now we've broken the ice so nicely. I'd like to hear the whole, unabridged version of the story, please."

Four days earlier…

Daniel walked into the security complex and not for the first time marvelled at the difference to the rest of the city. Seemingly carved out of the forest surrounding it, Salura was beautiful and dominated by the natural. Stone, wood, cotton and fur predominated the rest of the structures in a style reminiscent of earth's medieval period. Only a heckova lot cleaner, Daniel added as a mental aside.

Except for these rooms and where the 'gate was. Here all of that was left outside the moment you walked through the towering metal studded doors and into a world of impressive and advanced alien technology.

Sam believed the Saluran's had merely stumbled across the array of weapons and other pieces of godknowswhat and were just refusing to admit it. She didn't like them and so far the indications where that the feeling was mutual.

Increasingly, Daniel was coming to sympathise with Sam. Something definitely wasn't right here. He just couldn't put his finger on what. His disquiet wasn't helped by the fact that Teal'c had begun night-time vigils outside their quarters and refused to say why.

As for Jack…well, that was why he was here. He'd asked Daniel for help and since there was a distinct possibility of a diplomatic catastrophe if he didn't give it, Daniel was willing do what he could to divert Neer'ah's attention from an increasingly irritated Jack O'Neill.

Not to mention the hilarity value of watching this man, usually as tough as old boots and twice as impervious, flounder out of his depth at fending off the come hither vibes of a woman from another world.

What he found and overheard rounding a huge multihued column wiped the smile off his face. Uh oh, so much for diplomacy.

Sam had her hands planted on one of the many consoles and was sneering at a visibly antagonistic Neer'ah. "Are you for real," she asked, "Don't you get it? He isn't interested." Her head jerk indicated the direction Daniel assumed Jack had escaped. Given the atmosphere, he didn't blame him.

Neer'ah's attractive face twisted with rage. "You think you are so special don't you?" she hissed back, "Don't think I don't see the way you hover around him."

Even with the distance, Daniel saw Sam struggle with angry amusement at the ludicrousness of the situation. "I take it back you can't be real." She tossed up her hands, "Geeze, I don't believe this, I feel like I'm stuck in a bad romance novel."

Hands on hip and enunciating carefully, she spelled it out. "I hover as you put it, because I know how much you make him uncomfortable- nothing else."

Moss green eyes widened with pretend comprehension. "Oh, so this is just you protecting the poor defenceless man?"

"I'm protecting the mission," Sam gritted, holding onto patience with dint of effort, "Colonel O'Neill is more than capable of looking out for himself. If I were you, I wouldn't push him to test it."

"Ahem," clearing his throat to make his presence known, Daniel received a glare full of daggers from the Sularan woman and, walking over, caught her final retort.

"We'll see."

"Won't we just," muttered Sam to that stiff back as if disappeared and before turning to meet Daniel, "Yeesh, do you believe that woman?"

"Piranhas come to mind," he agreed, hands shoved in his pockets and rocking back on his heels, "or maybe black widow spiders. I can't decide."

Sitting back down and flipping open a chart, Sam spoke for them all. "I can't wait to finish up here and just get the hell out of dodge."

"She wasn't kidding about the bad romance part was she," said Rebecca into the pause.

"Don't let that kid you into thinking this isn't a dangerous and volatile situation," warned Daniel, "It's thinking like that stopped us from leaving before it turned nasty."

"I get that," Rebecca pursed her lips and raked back some mutinous curls from around her face, "I'm just not sure I can be of any use to you. Frankly it doesn't sound much like any matriarchal society I've ever studied." Feeling the sudden chill of Teal'c's gaze, she tacked on, "Don't worry I'm not trying to back out. I'm just…confused."

"Join the club," asserted Daniel.

She smiled and closed her eyes to think, "Okay, tell me what was on Colonel O'Neill's mind. How was he reacting to all of this?"

"I'm telling you, Teal'c. If that woman doesn't stop crowding me, I'm gonna lose it."

From his bed, the Jaffa followed the aggravated strides of his human friend, "Crowding? How so?"

"As in personal bubble breaking," O'Neill snapped back and paced faster, "I can't go for a pee without her wanting to come along and hold my hand."

"She wishes to watch you uri-"

O'Neill snapped up a hand and grimaced, "Okay, bad example."

When no alternative example seemed forthcoming, Teal'c asked reasonably, "Have you tried explaining to her that you are not looking for a mate at this time?"

"I've lost count of how many times." Disgust and discomfort warred on his face, "Yikes, and people say I'm dense."

"I do not say such a thing."

"One of the few."

Finally a smile lifted some of that combustible anger and Teal'c was pleased to have managed it. In his experience being under such constant tension and mounting irritability as O'Neill had for a number of days was to be avoided. He considered it his duty as a friend to help dissipate it.

O'Neill sat and swung his legs up to lie prone on his own bed. Hands linked behind his head, he contemplated the ceiling and worked on relaxing. "I know I should just ignore her. Hell, its not like she can do anything except be a pain in the ass." Turning to peer at Teal'c, he said, "Right, T?"

At that precise moment, Teal'c felt a sensation similar to what the humans called 'having someone walk over his grave.'

"What?" asked O'Neill and by the shortened tone, Teal'c suspected his unease had been unwittingly communicated.

Just then there was a knock at the stout wooden door of their 'chamber'. On the first day, O'Neill had labelled it their monastic cell and avoided it as much as possible; along with Neer'ah of course.

"Who is it?" O'Neill called out and sat up again, impatience at the timing clearly written on his face.

"It's just me," said Daniel head poking around the side to check they were decent. "I have Sam with me," he explained when twin querying looks still pressed him on why he'd bothered knocking. The third bed was his and Sam was next door.

"Ahh," said Jack, "Come on in, Major, we're okay."

Seeing thelooks on their faces as they trooped inside blanked his expression. He always got that look when the soldier in him recognised trouble brewing. Daniel found it fascinating that Jack seemed to double his IQ points when that happened.

"At least I think we're okay," he said and giving up, heaved a sigh. Long fingers rubbed at the frown between heavy brows, "Ya know what? I'm not sure I even wanna know what's got you both so wound up."

Daniel interrupted the complaint before he got into full flood, "Jack we've found something that could be important."

"Ah hah!" Jack pounced, "See, I told you I didn't want to know." He pointed a finger at him, "Whenever you say that it always ends badly- for us."

"Ja-ackk," Daniel complained.

"Sir," interrupted Sam and got Jack by the short and curlies just by levelling that earnest look of hers on him. Daniel surrendered the floor to her without a qualm.

"Daniel and I found this place…"

o-O-o

"Who's this?" asked Sam when he stopped to roll over a man laying on the forest floor.

"His name is Alman," said O'Neill, "He was working for Beluga-" his head jerk indicated the direction of where they'd left the android after hacking off his head to make damned sure he didn't do another Lazarus act. "When I heard you, I had to do something to make sure he wouldn't run off on us."

Sam raised her brows, "So you zatted him?"

The tone suggested he'd been extreme. Annoyed, he tossed her a glare. "When you screamed, I figured I didn't have time to be all Mr Nice-Guy and tie him up." He shrugged, "I did what I had to do."

And since that involved saving her life, Sam figured she didn't have any right to point fingers. "Ah, got it. You're right, sorry, sir. I wasn't thinking."

Finished tying off the wrist restraints, O'Neill pulled the unconscious Alman up and settled him across one board shoulder. "Whatever. What say we go find somewhere dry to bed down? In the morning I want Alman to lead us to his master's ship."

"And then?"

His grin was pure O'Neill cockiness, "And then we fly outta here to another planet with a stargate."

There were a million possibilities and obstacles he didn't seem to have considered. Sam opened her mouth to see if she could enlighten him on a few that popped into her head first and then snapped it shut. In that second she'd come to realise two things. She'd be wasting her time, and she wanted it to be that simple, too.

Instead, she caught his gaze and smiled through the drying mud covering her face, "Sounds good to me."

Jack couldn't sleep. He changed position more than times than he could remember and it made no difference. He couldn't even blame it on being uncomfortable. In the cave they'd found, or rather stumbled into with Jack having overestimated the distance from memory, they were out of the worst of the storm and drying out. Even the storm was a plus point, too, as it pretty much guaranteed all pursuit would suspended until morning; meaning they could risk a fire.

No, it was the thoughts running around his head that were keeping him too wired to relax.

Losing Carter to the bounty hunter had opened a proverbial Pandora's box of emotions that he'd hoped never to have to face. A part of Jack had known his feelings for his 2INC were unprofessional, but thanks to the nature of their jobs, he hadn't had time or the inclination to acknowledge them. Best of all, Carter's own detachment had gone a long way to helping him keep his.

Until now.

He'd never been so close to just losing it entirely. If they hadn't caught up with them before they reached the ship, he would have chased them down anyway and torn the damned planet apart to get her back. And wouldn't that have been pretty? He could just imagine the General's face now. Rampaging colonels weren't exactly looked upon favourably by the powers-that-be at the Pentagon.

Sitting there with his back to a cave wall a sick feeling of doom ground in his gut. Nah, if he was honest it went back further than that. It'd all begun to unravel the moment he heard Neer'ah announce her plans for Sam. Standing there, gaping Jack had felt the red mist drop over him. Politically incorrect or not, generally he loathed hurting women, but in this case he'd itched to wrap his hands around that throat and squeeze, and squeeze until her damned head popped off.

He still did if he honest.

It all came down to this: nobody was touching Carter, and certainly not without her permission. Jack didn't give a rat's ass if most of Salura was non-violent. He'd wreak havoc if he had to.

Speaking of rats, something small scurried along one side of the cave. Distracted, Jack watched the tiny rodent as it scavenged in the dirt for titbits. In the dying embers of the fire its tiny eyes glowed timidly and Jack gazed back when it seemed to look at him directly. Then something spooked it and it disappeared leaving Jack's thoughts to zip back to the topic that stubbornly resisted being pushed back to the mental closet it had erupted from.

Him and Sam, O'Neill and Carter, Colonel and Major, half of SG-1 and so out of his reach she may as well be in another galaxy. He refused to use the L-word. He cared about her- a lot more than was good for either of them. That was bad enough.

"Oy," he agreed with himself. All of a sudden he felt ancient. Too much thinking did that to you in his experience. When they got home, he refused to use the term if; he was going to have to do something about this crazy mess before it got out of hand.

If he had any sense he'd find himself a girlfriend; forget about work and use his leave like he was supposed to. It wasn't like he didn't get plenty of offers of female company because he did. A heckova lot more than he expected for a man his age. In bars, stores, or just about anywhere with people he'd feel appreciative eyes trailing after him. Even while he got a kick out of it, the attention embarrassed him and he'd be reminded of Sara, laughing her butt off at him when he'd complain.

The familiar nostalgic sting had him curling into himself and wrapping his arms around his knees. He missed Sara, and being married, but he survived. Jack didn't even want to know why contemplating his life without Sam Carter in it was so excruciatingly painful.

Without permission his gaze sought her out. Tufts of blonde hair peeked out over the arm concealing her face. Stronger minded than a hardened cynic only without the soullessness, the major was deeply asleep. Using one arm as a pillow, she was curled into a fetal position. She was exhausted from the crap of the previous day. Jack was exhausted too and for a lot of the same reasons. Ass going numb on the cold hard floor, he fervently wished he could follow her example.

o-O-o

"Why haven't they disarmed you?" asked Rebecca as they followed the female tech assistant from Sulara's 'gate receiving room. With each step she was looking at something else and taking it all in, or trying to. If she cranked her neck around any faster, she risked some serious cricks.

With a pang, Daniel realised how much he missed that swamped-by-the-wonder of it feeling.

"I doubt they see us as a threat," he replied and belatedly wondered if it was a really wise move to bring another woman into this mess. At the time she'd just been a stranger and his conscience had been relatively quiet. Not so now. "Um, Dr Stanislow...Rebecca, don't let yourself get separated from us at any time or for any reason, okay?"

"I wasn't planning to."

Her wide-eyed fascination gave him a bad feeling, similar to an ulcer, and meeting Teal'c's gaze, he smiled ruefully and thought he now understood Jack's often stark impatience with his own penchant to ignore safety in the face of a significant find. Responsibility sucked.

"So where's this 'baby farm'," she air quoted with her hands, "you and Major Carter stumbled across?"

It was Teal'c that answered her, "The facility is located underground and the entrance is heavily guarded. I do not think it wise to attempt to get inside."

"I agree. Apart from the fact that there isn't much point…" Daniel lowered his voice, "…last time we had Jack distract Neer'ah while Sam stole her passkey. Somehow I don't see them letting us near it again."

Reaching outside and the elegantly columned walkway set alongside fragrant public gardens, he spotted a familiar figure striding into view. Beneath the billowing, ruby coloured cloak her sandals click-clacked on the stone flags. When she got close enough, he stopped and greeted her civilly. "Counsellor Morgana, it's good to see you again."

"Dr Jackson, and Teal'c, welcome," her smile was considerably thinner this visit, "I'm pleased if a little…surprised to see you."

Daniel had to hand it to her. She was a consummate politician and kept her reservations off her face. Somehow, he doubted she could keep it up. They were alone with her and he took advantage of that. "No more than we are," he agreed, "especially after the way we left."

She hadn't been expecting that straight off bat. There was a stunned pause in which, Teal'c's, "Indeed," dropped with deep, weighty emphasise.

"Well," recovering with a stiff laugh, Morgana inclined her head in acknowledgement, "I admire forthrightness, so I'll offer you the courtesy of returning it. Despite what you think you can do for Colonel O'Neill and Major Carter, you should not have returned." Her gaze was sharp and travelled over the three of them, lingering for a telling moment on Rebecca.

It wasn't missed. Seeing Rebecca's eyes narrow and guessing it heralded trouble, Daniel rushed into the gap, "Morgana, unless I miss my guess, Neer'ah acted without your approval." As hoped, he got her full attention and gambled recklessly, "The fact that the situation isn't resolved means you've lost control of it. What say we talk privately on how we can get it back for you?"

o-O-o

Sam probed Alman for information as the trio travelled. Some of it was to get her mind off the last time she'd passed this way through the seemingly endless forests of Salura, but most of it was genuine curiosity about his dead master and, as it turned out, himself.

"You're not human either," she hazarded.

"No," he replied matter-of-factly. "My master created me to serve him."

A slave, why wasn't she surprised? "You're not upset he's dead though," she pointed out. "Do you feel emotion, or isn't that a part of your programming?"

"I have been programmed to undergo the usual responses necessary to survive. I think you call them fight or flight." He paused to think about it, "Although without the necessary aggression, I'm afraid I lean heavily towards flight as a conditioned response."

"Oh. Good." What else could she say? "Are there any more of you out there?"

"Bounty hunters, assuredly. The reward for your capture is significant," Alman replied as if talking about the weather, "but if you mean specifically like me, then no, I am the last now Belgna is dead."

That sounded far too lonely for any kind of response Sam could think up. Not touching it, she focused on their situation. "Tell me about the bounty on us," she demanded, flashing a quick smile to soften it. "How does it work and how many hunters are we looking at here?" Tilting her head she added, "That you know of anyway."

They'd narrowly avoided two other hunting parties already that morning. Ducking into cover and forced to crawl away on their bellies. The net was tightening as time went on. Now, Alman gave her a startled look, "The bounty is not on you both, Major Carter, but on you alone." Confusion sped over his face, "I thought you knew that already."

"I-," Sam did a double take, "well, I guess, I assumed that after we escaped it would be the both of us-"

It had seemed a logical assumption. After all they'd done enough collateral damage getting out of the city that an uproar over and above their little spat with Neer'ah had seemed certain.

Alman looked over to where Jack was using higher ground to assess what problems might lay in front, or be coming up from the rear. As if explaining to a child, he said, "Colonel O'Neill could return to Salura right this minute and nothing would be done to him. After all, it's you they want."

All of a sudden Sam wished she'd kept her mouth shut. Ice slithered down her spine, leaving spreading chills to rough her skin with goose-bumps. The question came out of its own volition, "Is that why Belgna didn't kill Colonel O'Neill back at that first trap?"

Alman shrugged, "Belgna would have considered a killing shot unnecessary and wasteful of energy." Deciding it was needed, he clarified, "I didn't say Colonel O'Neill wouldn't be hurt if you are found together and he resists your capture, just that it isn't a part of the bounty. They want you alive. Him…well let's just say he has a choice."

The part man, part machine alien was ten times more chilling in that moment for the very thing that had made him seem harmless at first. Said so calmly and by such a colourless personality, that pronouncement sent Sam reeling. She came to a complete standstill. Stunned, the thread of her thoughts tangled, snagging together and leaving just two to hit her hard.

The colonel could go home, right now and without being hurt. Or, he could stay with her and maybe die trying to save her from being taken alive. From a strictly logical point of view, he was in more danger with her, than she was without him.

"Carter, so help me if you're going of one of these new trances of yours-," his aggravated voice broke into her thoughts. Mini recon over with, O'Neill was back with them. He was a few minutes too late to prevent the germ of an idea from setting root in her mind.

She forced herself to meet his glare levelly. Coolly, she corrected, "No trance, just thinking."

"Well, stop it. That's an order," he barked, eye-balling her for a second before taking point again with a gruff, "We've got company coming up on our six. Move out."

o-O-o

Morgana's quarters were a revelation. So much for the simple life uncomplicated by technology; that was obviously for the lesser mortals. Still, there was no TV for hockey or the Simpson's for Jack. Although, Sam might have got a kick out of pulling it all apart if she'd been granted an opportunity.

Trying not to wonder where his friends were or if even they were okay, Daniel made a beeline for the scrolls, leaving Teal'c to help Rebecca make sense of the archive console Morgana had conjured up out of the floor of the spacious living area.

A little while later, Rebecca broke the industrious silence with a question he'd hoped she wouldn't broach, "Why me, Daniel?"

Engrossed, Daniel reluctantly pulled himself out of Salura's past to look up and blink owlishly. She wasn't looking at him but the console. Designed in an ergonomic semi-circle, the console worked via a tiny earpiece and placing a thin metal wand into engraved holes arranged in complicated patterns.

Realising what it was she'd asked, he stalled, "Pardon?"

Her glance was sly, "Fess up. Why me?"

"You have a reputation," he answered and searched for a polite way of putting it, "…for being…persistent."

"Oh please! I have a name for being a bitch, specifically a pain in the arse terrier who won't leave things well enough alone. The rest of the anthropological and half the archaeological communities hate me for it."

"Hate is a bit strong," he corrected. "You make them uncomfortable because you force them to think about supposed 'proven' theories on human development."

When she didn't answer, he continued, "Very few people have the guts to go up against the establishment like you do. I tried and ended up an outcast. Then I got lucky."

Her disbelief made him smile, "Is that what this is- luck?"

He grimaced, "You get used to it."

"Maybe," she conceded, "but all of that doesn't explain what it is I'm supposed to be getting all persistent about?"

Turning to her fully, Daniel decided to come clean. He clasped his hands and braced himself, "Find something you can use when you go before the council. Do what you do best and twist what they think are absolutes, make them re-evaluate every little thing and then when they least expect it, trip them up with their words."

"And if that fails?"

"Be as colourful as you can." Daniel confessed, "Keep them distracted. Irritate the hell out of them while Teal'c and I find a way to get us all out of here. Maybe even disable those defences so General Hammond can force the issue."

There, it was out. He'd just admitted the real reason behind her being there. She was to be an irritating distraction while they worked behind the scenes. No idiot by any stretch of the imagination, Rebecca raised both brows. "You didn't have anyone obnoxious enough at the SGC already?"

His grin was faintly apologetic, "Yeah, but Jack's kinda busy being a major part of the problem already." Since he was being honest, he tacked on, "Besides we needed a woman. Men aren't allowed to petition the council members."

Daniel waited tensely for her reaction. He'd delayed this conversation until they were already here in the faint hope that she'd think twice before backing out 'in-situ' so to speak. It was more than a little despicable of him and he knew it.

Blowing out a resigned breath that puffed out her cheeks, Rebecca turned her attention back to the console and fiddled with the earpiece. Plugging it back in, she scowled after a moment, "D'y'know what I can't get my head around? They have all this technology and they use a voice like that! Bloody hell! Somebody needs to offer to trade some nasal spray."

That was it. The only response she was going to offer. Sensitive to nuances, Daniel recognised it for what it was; a silent acceptance of the plan with a little griping thrown in for good measure.

"I'll bring it up at the next briefing," he offered with a small, relieved smile.

"I may have something here." Teal'c's deep, measured voice broke into the pause. His wand, identical to Rebecca's and looking tiny in his large hand hovered over a notch. "Councillor Morgana said to search out references to Shre Laminia. I believe I have located such a reference."

"Great," he said, fired with enthusiasm. "I think we're finally getting somewhere." Almost giddy relief that he hadn't chased away his hidden weapon, Daniel scraped back his chair and headed over to listen.

o-O-o

It was another beautiful morning that was completely lost on Sam whose face ached from trying to keep her expression neutral. The eyes that continuously scanned for dangers like any good soldier would only took in half of what they should have done. She felt numb. In all her years as a military officer, she'd never even entertained the idea of acting against her superiors, at least not so blatantly. What she was considering was gross insubordination, almost as bad as disobeying a direct order.

Okay, so he hadn't expressly ordered her not to do something dumb, but the colonel probably figured it was a given and didn't need saying. Normally, he'd have been right. She couldn't help thinking it was unfair, too. He'd gone a lot further than anybody, including her, could have expected of a CO; going on the run with her, tracking her down after she'd been captured by an enemy and killing that enemy to save her. Ditching him to go on alone was so much less than he deserved, but if it meant he wasn't at risk…

The prickling sensation of being hemmed in was getting worse. The latest sighting of yet another hunting party had only added to it. With every step, Sam weighed up her career and position with SGC against the life of a man she considered a friend, maybe more.

Maybe more? Oh c'mon we're way past denying that aren't we?

When Belgna had shot Jack, Sam's reaction had been deeply revealing, unfettered by the need to repress. Gut-wrenching grief had speared right through her until she'd thought she'd shatter. Then boiling wrath and the need for revenge had kicked in. Not that it'd done her much good at the time.

The crutch of it was this was personal now. The mission was shot to hell and this conflict had nothing to do with their fight against the Goa'uld, finding technology or just general exploring. This was about Samantha Carter and being able to live with herself after this was all over.

Alman's reaction after being told Jack's plan had brought back her own misgiving threefold. Salura had some pretty impressive aerial defences that required any ship entering or leaving the planet to go through vigorous security checks. Trying to bypass them meant certain death.

Typically, the colonel brushed him off, but Sam didn't share his confidence in a good ole fashioned bluff. Maybe because it hadn't worked in the hundred or so times he'd tried it in the past. It ranked up there with her lack of appreciation for Homer.

The joke fell flat and died before it had a chance to draw breath. God! What a mess. Sam hadn't wished she could turn back the clock so much since her Mom died.

Impossible feelings aside, it came down to this. She didn't want anybody dying because she'd screwed up. She'd known she was pushing it with Neer'ah, got a slight guilty kick out of it, too, for reasons she didn't like to think about, but she suspected had to do with the colonel. And now she didn't want anybody else in the line of fire.

Daniel and Teal'c were safe and if she did it right, O'Neill would be, too. Then it was just her and the way she wanted it. Even if the worst happened and she got captured, Sam would never blame her team mates because she'd made her own decisions. She also knew they wouldn't give up on her and would move heaven and earth to free her. Selfishly that gave her the confidence she needed to make sure they all lived to have that chance.

Not that she was going to go down without a fight. She was fully armed again. Belgna was gone and excluding Alman he'd been the last of his kind. Surely any other bounty hunters would be easier to dispose of? She sure hoped so and even if she was wrong it was a risk she was willing to take.

Which was all fine and dandy, but how to lose the colonel? Dropping back and heading off in another direction might just cause him to backtrack and run straight into that hunting party trailing them.

Her eyes slid to Alman, thinking.

He must have sensed her gaze. He looked over and despite a hectic flush on his face from the punishing pace set by O'Neill, assured her, "It's not far now."

"Good," she said shortly and after ensuring that the colonel was out of ear shot, she worked up a warm smile, "Alman, I need to ask you a huge favour."

o-O-o

They stood in a line and stared at the ship, Alman with equilibrium, O'Neill and Carter with a shared lack of enthusiasm. "You call that rust-bucket a ship?" asked O'Neill bluntly. "I've seen fresh car wrecks that look more fly-worthy."

Carter tried for something approaching positive, "It looks to be in once piece, sir."

He shot her look loaded with disbelief. "Sh'yeah, is that supposed to reassure me?"

Alman walked over to it and pulling a hidden lever opened a hatch that slid back with a hiss of protesting air. "The Sirius isn't much to look at, but it's perfectly functional," he said and stood back for the two human's to enter. In a courteous gesture he waved inside in invitation, "Please, after you."

"Ah, no," rejected O'Neill, knee-jerk, "you first, Alman. No offence, but if there's any booby traps waiting in there, I'd prefer you disarm them first."

He didn't add that he was afraid his weight would cause the damn thing to tilt or worse. Jack took another, longer look in the vain hope his first impression was just a bad one and a second would improve his perspective. Nothing doing. Damn!

"Oy!" he muttered as an aside to Carter, "Where's Hans Solo when you need him?"

A sideways glance revealed Carter looking solemnly at him and not at the aerodynamic disaster they were supposedly escaping in. When she saw she had his attention, she said, "I'm truly sorry I dragged you into this mess, Colonel."

Caught by the desperate lights in those stunning blue eyes, O'Neill didn't see it coming. Before he could open his mouth and tell her to forget it or something equally macho and dismissive, she said, "And I'm even more sorry about having to do this."

Instinct had him dropping his eyes to her hands, but it wasn't soon enough. The zat gun in her hand discharged before the beginning prickle of unease could coalesce into something concrete enough to unlock his muscles.

When the colonel crumpled in on himself, spasming with the pain, Sam felt the acid sting of tears. They clogged her throat to the point where she had to swallow hard to ease the strangling tightness. Oh God! She dropped to her knees beside him, but self disgust and sudden blanket of crippling guilt stopped her from reaching out to touch him.

She'd just shot her CO and the man she was half in love with. On her knees beside him hysterical laughter bubbled in her chest. Jesus, why was it getting easier to admit just when she'd done something so unforgivable he'd likely fry her ass at a court martial the second she got home? If she got home.

"I wasn't certain you'd go through with it," commented Alman coming to stand beside her, adding with a thoughtful frown, "Or, maybe I mean hoping."

A fat tear slid down her right cheek. Roughly swiping it away, she pushed herself back to her feet and faced off with the android. "You just remember what I said about taking care of him," Sam warned hoarsely, adding clarification in case it was needed, "and getting him back to safety. If I find out you've double crossed me, I swear-"

Placid blue eyes actually rolled. Alman held up a silencing hand. "Major Carter, from what you yourself said Colonel O'Neill will be out of commission for only a short time. I suggest you make use of what little you have."

When she didn't budge or back down, he sighed, "I swear that no harm will come to him from me." A little waspishly, he continued, "In fact, I think it's me we should both be worrying about. From our short acquaintance, I've come to the conclusion he is a short-tempered man."

Sam gave a short, humourless bark of laughter, "Be glad you aren't me. I set him up and then shot him. Somehow, I think I'll be higher on his shit list."

Earlier that morning male servants had trooped in with armfuls of fresh flowers to replace the multitude of wilting ones perched in vases dotted all around the councillor's chamber. They'd given the humans and Jaffa only brief, curious looks before leaving again.

The scent of honeysuckle in the air was heavy and rich. Lucky for me I have a sweet tooth thought Rebecca archly.

"This thing is a treasure trove of information. I have to force myself not to get distracted," she said to the room at large. "There's stuff in here that make your reports look like measly book summaries."

"Really?" Instantly Daniel's head came up from scrutinising yet another scroll, "Such as?" Sitting with his elbows planted on the ornate wooden dining table and surrounded by bunches of rolled up parchment, he was heavy-eyed and there was the beginnings of dark stubble on his jaw. As for the redness behind the glass of his spectacles that had just as much to do with caffeine withdrawal as eye strain.

Taking that as a cue for a break, she turned to face him before replying, "Well, according to this, Salura was originally a patriarchal society just like you'd surmised. But there's a lot more information on what happened to change that. The older stuff is told in the form of stories and it's seriously intriguing."

Folding his arms over the scroll spread out on the table to keep it from rolling back in on itself, Daniel explained what he knew of the tale, "The way the Salurans tell it they got a visit from an alien race that arrived one day out of the blue, pretending to be peaceful and only wanting to help. Apparently it was a ruse."

"Yup, that's what it says here," agreed Rebecca. "To cut a long story short the leaders of the time, who all happened to be males by the way, accepted the offer of help and for a time everything seemed wonderful. The aliens gave them advanced technology to defend themselves, some medicines as well as much more sophisticated methods of communicating and storing data," she waved a hand at the archive console behind her, "like this thing."

"Then it all went wrong."

"Yeah, the population started to decline and the Salurans figured out it was the aliens who'd caused it by making the women infertile somehow. There were riots, general hysteria and there's a references or two in here about getting help from neighbouring planets. Eventually they managed to chase the aliens off, but only after heavy losses. This city was the only one with enough survivors to rebuild."

"Does it give the aliens a name, or mention a timeframe," Daniel asked, interested. "The Salurans I spoke to either didn't know, or were forbidden to say."

Rebbecca shook her head and said, "Nope, no name and I'm guessing, but I think it wasn't that long ago; maybe less than a century since the war ended. By all accounts the years afterwards were pretty dark, too, and what came out of it was the Saluran society of today. The highborn women took over, gathered all of the remaining women who could conceive and forced them keep having babies; one after another in an attempt to stop their entire race from dying out."

"I didn't know that." Daniel admitted thoughtfully. "I just assumed that with most of the men dead from the war, women had to take on leadership roles. Similar to the way some did in western civilisations on earth by taking on male roles during WWII."

Taking it one step forward and thinking aloud, he said, "It all makes some sort of twisted sense now. Because they couldn't conceive themselves they made the whole process out to be something distasteful and fit only for slaves. Wow, how incredibly sad."

"I am unable to sympathise given their treatment of O'Neill and Major Carter," said Teal'c speaking up for the first time. He looked up and caught his friend's gaze with an impassive one of his own.

Daniel got the hint and winced, "Okay, shutting up and getting back to work here."

o-O-o

It took a while for Jack to realise why his face was pressed against something cold and hard. He was lying on a floor. Moreover it was a floor that happened to be vibrating for some obscure reason. Considering even his toenails ached, he really didn't want to move, but there was a voice inside his head that sounded suspiciously like a drill sergeant he'd once tangled with. It was hollering at him to get up now!

Cursing a blue streak under his breath, Jack stretched out his legs and forced himself to roll over onto his back. He cracked open an eye and groaned when an overhead light stabbed into his protesting eyeball. "God!" Slamming it shut, he tried with the other one and this time used a cautious squint as a safeguard.

After a few seconds blobs formed into round lights inside geometric metal squares. Then a face appeared; placid, plump with enquiring blue eyes and neat brown hair. "Alman?" he croaked.

"It's good to see you awake and unharmed," said the android. "I'm afraid I bumped your head bringing you aboard."

Jack didn't remember coming on board, only that he had serious reservations about the pile of scrap he was now flying in. Brown eyes flew open. Flying?

Uh oh, they weren't in Kansas anymore.

He jerked upright so fast shooting pains streaked through his skull. Ignoring them, Jack tried to latch onto an elusive scrap of memory that hovered at the edge of his mind. "Alman, are we on the move?"

Before the android could do more than open his mouth to reply it all came together and Jack was hit by the dual forces of stunned disbelief and fury. Carter had shot him. She'd stood there, said she was sorry and then zatted his ass. Son of a bitch!

Jack wasn't sure, but it might have been the instant, explosive pressure in his head that helped him lunge to his feet so quick. On his feet, he grabbed Alman by his pointy collars and shook him, "Where the hell is Carter?"

Alman did that quietly scared blinking thing of his, "Major Carter isn't here," he said. "She decided not to travel with us and asked me to take you back to the safety of Salura."

There was a pause. Flabbergasted, Jack let go and dropped his hands. "She did- asked what?!"

Brushing his palms over the wrinkles, Alman briefly wondered at the moisture beading on his brow and dampening the same palms attempting to straighten his abused attire. "When I told her the bounty was strictly on her and not you, I'm afraid it gave her the idea that you would be safer without her." He flapped a weak hand at the console behind Jack. "Hence this little trip."

"Of all the harebrained, dumb, half-baked…screwy ideas that has got to take the cake," said Jack slowly, but with enough force to cause his audience to wince. Needing to move or explode, he paced the Sirius' cabin. It didn't help. More outraged and confused by the second, he whirled on and stabbed a finger at the silent Alman, "I blame you for this. Whatever it was you said it obviously messed with her mind. There's no way the Carter I know would do something as nuts as this-"

"Perhaps you don't know your second-in-command as well as you thought you did," Alman refuted smoothly. "I assure you I did not attempt to subvert her." He spread his hands, "I simply gave her the facts and she reached her own conclusions."

"Exactly, you ass!" Incensed, Jack stared sure he should be doing something violent. He curled his fingers into his palms to still the impulse to throttle him and said instead, "You're gonna turn this heap of junk around and take me back, Alman. Got it? The exact same spot we took off from."

The android lost some of his perpetual composure and frowned, "I don't think that's wise. The hunting parties-"

Grabbing a shoulder in a harsh grip, Jack marched him over to what he assumed was the pilots seat. "Did I say you had a choice?" he snapped and pushed him into it. "Turn around now!"

"If I don't?" asked Alman, more out of curiosity than a burning desire to rebel.

Grimly staring out of the window's to assess how far they might be, Jack said bluntly, "I'll shoot you."

o-O-o

Landing back on terra firma, Jack couldn't get off the Sirius fast enough. Alman came to stand at the top of the ramp. O'Neill ignored him to search for signs of Carter's tracks; starting with the likeliest paths from the small clearing.

A few minutes later and he'd given up trying not to wish he had Teal'c with him. He was passable at tracking, but nowhere near on the same level as his Jaffa friend.

Luckily for him the rain of the night before had left the ground soft enough that tracking was at least possible for someone of his skill level. "That's it! I gotta ask Teal'c to give me some tips," he muttered, bending down to brush away some long grass and shrub, tacking on silently, "Just in case I end up chasing down the usually sane member of my team again at some point in the future."

If she survived the experience; which right now was debateable. Jack was pissed enough to have steam coming out of his ears. She'd shot him for crying out loud.

Oh, when he caught up with her thing were gonna get mighty interesting. If he caught up with her at all.

Frustrated he stood up and gusted out an aggravated breath. He hadn't found squat and if he set off in the wrong direction, he could end up losing her altogether. All supposing he hadn't already. After all there was a lot of landmass around here to get lost in. Which would be all fine and dandy if you weren't being hunted down like a criminal. Jack shut down that line of thought and ordered his guts to loosen up.

Carter must have covered her tracks when she first started, possibly to thwart something like this. He could only hope she'd stop being so cautious when she figured she had enough distance from the clearing. For now though, he needed a starting point.

Turning back to the ship and Alman, he eyed the android with sharp suspicion. "I don't get it," he admitted, "Why did you even agree to do it? Somehow, I don't see you as the get-involved type."

He figured that if he could find that out, he might get some help of his own.

"Major Carter asked for my help."

Jack found himself reduced to a dumb stare again. Yeesh, the way he told it you'd think it was the most logical thing in the world for an android built by a dying alien race, the last of whom had been trying to abduct Carter only the night before, to want to be Mr Helpful all of a sudden.

"Just because she asked, huh?" he queried, hands on hips, and not bothering to hide his disbelief.

"I was programmed to be of assistance, Colonel," reminded Alman, clasping his hands behind his back, "Helping the major might have been a problem when my master was alive, but with him gone all of my previous protocols are redundant." Pausing briefly, he tacked on, "Besides I saw the logic of only one life in danger instead of two."

Jack opted not to touch that one. "So, does that mean if I ask for help, you'll give it?"

Alman cocked his head and thought about it for a couple of beats before replying carefully, "I would consider it."

Jack raised a brow. Consider? He'd do more than that. Hell, the android owed him after the crap he'd helped Carter pull off.

"Which direction did she take?" he asked, gesturing at the surrounding forest. Then something else occurred to him, "Oh and do you have some kind of portable radio transmitter? Mine got kinda lost."

o-O-o

It had taken almost all day to dig up enough information to draw any conclusions. The Saluran's did like to make life difficult, but they'd gleaned enough to go on. Now, it was night-time and eyes aching with strain and brain verging on numb, Daniel scrubbed his face and tried to gather his tumbling thoughts.

"So what we're saying is that roughly translated, Shre Laminia means to the captor go the spoils," he asked, looking for a unanimous agreement.

The other two nodded acceptance in their respective manners with Rebecca adding, "A bit Blackbeard of them don't you think?" she quipped, "and where's Orlando Bloom when you need him?"

There was a pause while Teal'c tried to digest that and Daniel frowned at the connection and framed a response. "Yes, well…let's not get lost at sea shall we?"

It was too much for the Jaffa. "We are not at sea, Daniel Jackson," stated Teal'c, head tilted just so. Usually he had the patience of Job, but the strain was showing even on him.

"No, no we're not," agreed Daniel and moved on with a quelling glare at Rebecca. "Anyway, I think we should try and think how we can use this new situation to our advantage." Sitting back in his seat, he shrugged, asking, "So, any ideas."

"Hire ourselves some bounty hunters and then if they catch up with O'Neill and Carter we own them?" suggested Rebecca. Then she grinned, "And doesn't that sound wrong on so many levels."

This time she got twin glares. Grimacing and holding up a warding hand, she excused herself, "Sorry. I'm tired and punchy with it and when that happens I get irreverent. Ignore me"

"You might have a point," offered Daniel, "Except, I wouldn't trust any bounty hunters not to switch sides. Besides, Jack would probably shoot first and ask questions later. He can be tetchy that way."

"I agree," said Teal'c and then went still before turning to look at the closed door. "We have a visitor," he warned and stood up to cross the room just as a knock came from the other side.

Daniel waved Rebecca back into her seat and went to join Teal'c as he reached and opened the door. Framed in the doorway was a man. A little on the short side and average in every way except for the obviously non-Saluran clothing, he eyed the two of them with mild curiosity.

"Daniel Jackson and Teal'c, I presume?" he asked.

He looked harmless enough Daniel decided, "Yes," he said, "I'm Daniel and this is Teal'c."

Teal'c bowed his head, but remained blocking the door. "Please state your business with us," he demanded bluntly in that ultra civil and immovable way of his.

"Certainly, my name is Alman," said the stranger, "I have a message for you from Colonel O'Neill."

o-O-o

Sam tried to get comfortable on the bed of leaves. The poncho was voluminous but not exactly weighty. Underneath both her and the makeshift mattress the ground was still damp and she was cold. Damned cold. Not to mention guilty and miserable as sin about her foreseeable future.

She'd shot her commanding officer and gone AWOL. Great career prospects. Now the colonel was safely out of the way, the ramifications of her actions refused to leave her alone. You had to love the way the mind works. Before all she could think about was how she'd feel if he died trying to help her. Now that wasn't an issue anymore, she was fretting about herself and circumstances that couldn't be resolved unless she could go back in time and undo what she'd done to save him in the first place.

It was so dark she couldn't even see her breath plume when she griped, "Geeze, Sam, could you get anymore contradictory?"

She was never going to get any sleep at this rate. Sitting up, she pushed back the poncho and shivering at the instant drop in body heat, decided a fire was worth the risk. Dying of hypothermia was a bit too final to be a viable alternative to being located by an enemy.

Heck, the way she felt right now, she'd almost welcome the chance to release some pent-up frustration.

A long twenty minutes later and blessing her survival training, Sam watched the small fire grow, feeding hungrily on the twigs and bracken she'd scrounged up. Despite her best efforts to find dry ones they were a little bit damp there was a lot more smoke than she would have liked. But, figuring that after the rainfall of the night before, she was lucky to have got a fire going at all, she dismissed it as unavoidable.

Finally warm enough to sleep, Sam was just dropping off when she heard something that had her bolting upright again. Was that a twig snapping or was she just imagining it. That was the problem with sleep, you never could tell unless another sound followed it up. Silence reigned, but Sam's heartbeat continued to hammer an alarm.

There was definitely something or someone out there. She could feel it.

Eyes wide and ears straining, Sam rolled to her feet with her sidearm held in a two handed grip. This time she didn't feel the cold, just adrenaline pumping its way through her system. The embers of the banked down fire haloed her in an orange glow. Her mind raced. If she had been located putting out the fire was horse and stable doorish and the light might be an advantage. She had to move though. Ducking away and behind the largest of the trees, Sam began a cautious, slow circuit on silent feet.

Using the fire as a guide, she got about half way round before something heavy and ominously silent barrelled into her. Born to the ground by the weight of her attacker, Sam felt the warmth of harsh breathing wash over her face. Heaving and kicking, she wrestled frantically in an attempt to wrench her gun hand from a punishing grip. Then she felt the all too familiar icy feel of a gun snub end pressed up into her jaw. She froze.

o-O-o

"I need to sit down," said Daniel, still struggling to take it all in.

"You're already sitting down, Daniel," Rebecca patted his shoulder soothingly.

Teal'c clasped his hands behind his back. "I understand Major Carter's reasoning," he said, "even if I do not agree with her acting on them in this instance."

Seeing the looks tossed his way, he explained, "For a Jaffa warrior it is perfectly acceptable to take whatever actions are necessary to ensure his fall in battle does not cost others their freedom or lives."

"Yeah, well, that might be fine for a Jaffa, but Sam has other rules to adhere to," countered Daniel, "And I'd say she's just broken a whole bunch of them." Because he couldn't stay still a second longer, he stood up, "God! What was she thinking?"

"No idea," said Rebecca, "Let's just hope your Colonel O'Neill manages to find her."

Daniel gave a bark of laughter, "Oh I don't know," he said. "I think for Sam's sake we should hope it takes a good long time. Long enough for Jack to stop simmering anyway."

"You're forgetting Shre Laminia. To the captor goes the spoils, remember?"

The penny dropped. "Whuh…what?!" Daniel had to snap his jaw shut, "Hold on a minute. Are you thinking what I think your thinking?"

Rebecca lifted one slim shoulder in a shrug. "It's probably a bit outside the box for the Salurans, but with Alman here as a witness, I may be able to sway the council to consider O'Neill one of the hunters now instead of the hunt-ees."

Standing sentinel-like beside her, Teal'c wore what passed for his intrigued expression. "You believe that if the Sularans accept that O'Neill and Major Carter are now in a state of conflict that they can safely return to the city, with her as his captive?"

"I think its worth running past Morgana and seeing what she thinks."

"Oh hey, what about Jack?" asked Daniel, wincing at forgetting something so crucial. He turned to the man, or rather android, Alman who'd been a silent observer since finishing his bizarre tale. "You said you left him with your radio. Does this mean we can contact him now?"

"Yes, but you'll need a transmitter with a longer range than is generally available in the city," he replied, "If memory serves the only place you will find one is the security command centre located beside the stargate."

"Which is heavily guarded and overseen by our friend Neer'ah." Daniel grimaced. "Well, we'll have to try out luck sometime, but let's concentrate on Morgana and the council for now. When we know if it'll work, we'll find a way to get in contact with Jack."

The second they'd hit the ground, he'd made sure she was completely pinned. His legs straddled her hips with both feet hooked over her legs, too. That coupled with an arm across her upper torso meant Carter had little room for manoeuvre. She put up a good fight despite that. Until he brought the Beretta up and into play. The safety was firmly on, but she had no way of telling that crucial fact.

She went utterly still under him and illogically guilt raked through Jack's anger. What was that old saying? Two wrongs don't make a right. Something like that, he thought and with the heat taken so abruptly out of his temper, he rolled to the side, saying. "If I'd have pulled out the zat instead of the pistol, I might have been tempted to shoot you."

Thanks to excellent night-vision he saw her face drain of colour to rival her hair for paleness. "Sir?!"

He waited until she clambered to her feet to respond. Then he went toe-to-toe with her and let rip. "What the hell kind of game are you playing, Major?" His voice bore his trademark hoarse crack, the one that only appeared when he was majorly, royally pissed.

This close, he saw her pupils' contract as his 2INC's mind whirled. She opened her lips to answer; infuriated, Jack didn't let her.

"…I ask because whatever it is it sure ain't in any of the rule books I've read."

She tried, "I know, I-"

"Not that I'm a big fan of the 'rules' myself," brown eyes, darkened to onyx, narrowed to ironic slits, "But, y'know, I think the ones covering NOT shooting your Commanding Officer and shanghaiing him on an alien spaceship might be among the few I actually adhere to."

Holding up a hand to create an illusion of distance, Carter jumped in, "Colonel, it was for your own safety."

She may as well have lit a match. His temper flared anew. "I worry about my safety," he roared, "And the safety of my team. One of which you happen to be by the way, Major!"

Seething that she'd made arbitrary decisions that could have got her captured, Jack would never have dreamed it was possible for her to turn it back on him so darned sneakily. With her hand still planted in the middle of his chest, her face smoothed into composed, almost serene lines. Serious, she asked him, "What do you want me to say, Colonel? That I acted unprofessionally in the extreme and for personal reasons? Fine I'll admit it."

Personal reasons?

If she'd pulled back a fist and punched him she couldn't have stunned him any more. Her hand became a brand got enough to singe, but Jack couldn't make the necessary move to separate them. Under that capable palm, his heartbeat seemed to speed up and slow down all at the same time. It was a phenomenon that didn't have a chance of holding his attention.

"What personal reasons?"

Time slowed down while he waited for enlightenment. Her mouth opened and then shut as she lost the reckless confidence of being caught off guard. As he watched, wide, candid blue eyes became shuttered and dropped from his. His heart chilled before she spoke the first word.

"When I found out you could go back it just seemed dumb for you to remain under threat with me." There were traces of defiance in her face as she lifted her chin again, "Rightly or wrongly; I made the decision necessary to ensure I didn't have to watch you die because of me…of something I'd done."

Brief if bitter disappointment dropped like a blanket. Brushing it off, Jack didn't know which statement to counter first. "It wasn't just you," he said harshly. "We all did it; each one of us. It was a team effort. In point of fact it was me that led the silly bitch on. All you did was sneak in and steal a piece of plastic."

Sam shook her head. "It goes back further than that," she admitted. "We'd been at logger heads for days and then I humiliated her," her eyes slid shut and she shook her head with deep regret. "I should have just kept my mouth shut. If I had we would probably have just been sent home in disgrace. I set her off."

"Oh for crying out-loud, Carter, she was already primed," Jack shot back. "No matter what bull-crap she spouted off there at the end, she didn't go to this much trouble because I wasn't interested, or because she was jealous of you. It was having a mountain of stinkin' egg on her face that we'd broken into their most secret, secure facility and found out they're a bunch of whoremongers."

Sam's brows snapped down, "Whoremongers?" she protested.

He sighed and conceded with a wave of one hand. "Okay, bad term but you know what I mean."

"Maybe."

There was an awkward pause. "You do realise how dumb it is to be having this conversation now, right?" he asked her. "By rights, I should be tying you up and hauling you off for a court martial after that trick you pulled."

This time there was no hiding the flash of fear, shame and regret in her eyes. "I know," she said quietly. In the moonlight, she stood dejected and unable to meet his eyes anymore.

During the long, unnecessary trek through the forest and especially when Jack would realise he'd taken a wrong turn and was forced to back-track to find the trail again, he'd planned his revenge. He was gonna scare the bejesus out of her, yell at her until her head exploded, or he lost his voice. And, most of all drag the threat of a court martial on right until the moment when everything fell into place and they were stepping through the 'gate to go home. Then and only then, he'd planned to tell her the whole idiotic business was to remain off the record and strictly between the members of SG-1.

As for Daniel and Teal'c, Jack didn't even have to ask. He already knew without a shred of doubt that they'd fall into line on that one.

Seeing her like this, Jack caved right then and there. "Oh, c'mon, Carter, you know me better than that. There won't be any frickin' court-martial."

Still, he was aggravated enough to add, "But if you ever pull anything like this again. I swear you'll be counting ice lumps in a lab in Alaska for the rest of your natural born life."

Her head came back up. Lost revenge couldn't possibly rival the satisfaction he got from seeing the sparkle came back into those bright blue eyes. "Really?" she queried, and then frowned in disbelief. "I mean are you sure. It was a serious offence, sir."

"Offence-s" he corrected with a dark look. "And don't remind me."

"But, I shot you,"

Jack gave an eyeroll, grabbed her arm to steer her toward a fire he could see between some trees, and said, "Especially about that. Geeze, Carter, are you trying to change my mind?"

She twigged, blushed and let herself be steered. "Oh no, no not all, absolutely not."

"Good, so drop it already."

Scientists, yeesh! Like any of them, Carter occasionally lost the plot and while most of the time he found it quaintly endearing in an annoying way, this time he just wanted a warm fire and some food in his belly. He hadn't thought to stop for food once. Now he'd found her again, he was hungry. Letting go of Carter's arm to walk companionably beside her, Jack did his damndest not examine while there was still a hand-print sized blaze of tingles smack bang in the centre of his chest.

When they got back, he was going to have to have Doc Frasier take a look at it. It wasn't totally out of the realms of possibility that he was developing allergies in his forties, God forbid. He probably had a rash. Maybe, he'd eaten something with a few too many friendly unfriendlies. Eating a bad fish could do all kinds of weird thing to a body.

Sh'yeah, right. You just go ahead and keep on kidding yourself, O'Neill. There's nothing wrong with denial. It's healthy, normal…

o-O-o

Tucked into the colonel in effort to stave off the cold, damp night, Sam's chest felt tight with emotions that refused to be pushed away. Chief among them was relief that she hadn't destroyed his respect in her; that he wasn't going to hold a grudge. It went a long way towards soothing her feelings over having failed to send him off to safety. The fact that her career prospects remaining intact came in a distant second to his opinion of her was something that Sam didn't bother questioning.

She was exhausted, her mind sluggish after yet another hard day filled with crappy choices. Sleep shouldn't seem so far away, but it did.

The arms she kept up and trapped between them felt wrong, awkward even. They felt empty she realised with something akin to panic. An image floated into her mind of her arms wrapped around Colonel O'Neill in an embrace that had little to do with sharing body-heat. Oh God she had to get off this planet, thought Sam. There was nothing here but forest and the option of losing herself in work was out of reach.

Her deep abiding love of science was a buffer that had gotten Sam through most of what life tossed her way. Her love for her family was constant, if until recently painful, but burying everything under the challenge of work had always been Sam's way of keeping sane. And it had worked fine until that damned quantum mirror.

The trouble was, Sam had never expected, or wanted to find love in the workplace outside of wormhole science, naquadah reactors and the rest. She hadn't seen it coming until it was too late and worse, she hadn't prepared for it.

It wasn't that Sam was heartless, or even wanted to be. The bonds she felt with Daniel and Teal'c were a blessing that she would never give up willingly. They were her friends as well as other members of SG-1 and she knew they felt the same way about her.

Lying there and aching with the need to get closer made the next logical step impossible to deny. But no matter how strong those bonds were, she wasn't falling in love with them. Not like she was the colonel.

Crap, crap, crap, crap, crap! If she had any sense, Sam knew she should have a private word with General Hammond and get herself reassigned. God help her though, she didn't want to give him up, or any of what she'd found the day, three years ago when she walked into a briefing room at Cheyenne Mountain.

Abruptly the ache intensified until Sam had to hug herself and squeeze her eyes shut.

o-O-o

"The council accepted the new Earth Representative's argument," announced Rayna, coming into her sister's chambers.

Under unofficial house arrest, Neer'ah had not been allowed to attend and had been biting her nails while she waited for news. Having been moving towards the door as the sounds of approach neared; she now sought out a seat to sink down onto. Stunned, She shook her head in denial. "But that's ridiculous. How can they believe that? O'Neill is her superior. It's outrageous."

"That maybe, but testimony from an unbiased source can turn many things on its head, sister dear," sneered Rayna. She was every bit unnerved as her younger sibling, and more than a little enraged by that fact. Pacing fast enough her cloak billowed behind her, she explained, "Apparently, Major Carter had a fit of nobility and turned a weapon on him to try and get him clear of danger."

Hearing that, Neer'ah's nails dug into her palms with rising wrath. "I knew she was lying with her denials of being jealous."

Freezing in her tracks, Rayna whirled and gaped at her. Quickfire, her temper boiled. "I can't believe your even thinking about that. Besides, she wasn't jealous of you, you idiot! What was there to be jealous of?" she all but spat out. "He didn't want you and it makes no difference what either of them felt for the other."

"If the Council can be persuaded-"

Her denseness was the last straw. Rayna swooped and grabbed a fistful of long brown hair, "The council…" she snarled, "…won't be persuaded by anything you say, or me for that matter. Morgana is out for our blood, remember?" Spitefully she yanked harder, ranting, "You've handed this family over to her on a silver platter with your pitiful obsession with this man."

"I'm not obsessed with O'Neill," Neer'ah denied, licking her lips and eyeing her sister with a very real fear. "They tricked me," she admitted.

Rayna's eyes narrowed, "Go on?"

"I was attracted to him- wanted him," she said, "And I thought he was finally coming around when he sought me out. I was wrong though. He lured me away from here so that bitch and the other two could sneak in and steal my passkey."

It was the first time she'd admitted to it. Despite her earlier suspicions, Rayna was shocked into letting go and stepping back. "So it was you? But the log-"

"I erased the entry," confessed Neer'ah with some of her pride returning now she was free. "I knew what the consequences would be if anyone found proof."

For once Rayna was a step or two behind. "So, why all of this?" The wave of her hand encompassed the situation rather than the chamber.

Neer'ah's expression was tight. "Being caught violating our laws by me gave me the right to decide their punishment. I chose to enslave Carter to punish them both. I didn't care about Dr Jackson or the Jaffa. All I knew was that it would cause him just as much pain to see her turned into a slave." White lipped with remembered rage, she said, "I wanted to hurt them for what they'd done."

"And…"

She blinked back from the scene that still stung her every time she recalled it. "When I caught up with the earthlings, I put on a show about how O'Neill had hurt my feelings. It wasn't all lies and that helped. If anyone doubted me, I figured being associated with a slave would discredit the remaining visitors if they told anyone that I'd let myself be tricked so easily. Afterwards, I hoped to persuade the council they were simply seeking revenge over what I'd done to one of their own."

Calmer now, Rayna sat down, too. "I suppose it has a certain logic to it," she said with a sigh. "Not that it matters now."

"Unless we turn this to our advantage," suggested Neer'ah, thinking as she talked. Seeing her sister so defeated seemed to bring her back to malicious life.

Still suffering from her set-back, Rayna merely raised a brow as a prod for details.

"Shre Laminia is an ancient law that dates back to less civilised times," Neer'ah pointed out, "And as such there are no laws against a slave being seized from one master by another as they seek to re-enter the city."

Understanding dawned. "I don't know, Neer'ah, it may not be enough anymore."

Certain of her brand-new plan, Neer'ah was unwilling to give up on it so easily. "Just think about it," she cajoled. "If we win out on this it will strengthen our position. At least, strengthen it enough to have Morgana thrown out of the council when we give them proof she's been favouring the earthlings over her own kind."

Neer'ah laughed seeing her older, much envied sister look so surprised. "That should prove an adequate and entertaining diversion to my own little mistakes. If nothing else it will muddy the waters, so to speak."

She laughed again, filled with delight and renewed confidence. "You really didn't know that she's been helping them?"

o-O-o

They were inside Salura's version of a bar. Rebecca and Teal'c sat at a round, scarred wooden table and sipped cautiously at twin, frosted glass tumblers. All around them the city's populace drank from their own glasses and eyed the strangers in their midst from over the rim. It wasn't the friendliest atmosphere.

"You do not find this place unnerving," observed Teal'c.

"What this?" Rebecca gestured at the bars patrons. "Nah. Believe me I've been in worse in my time. It's a hazard of the job." Lips quirking with wry humour, she added, "Especially when said job involves studying mankind in all its less than glorious aspects."

"I see," said Teal'c with heavy emphasis. She suspected he did indeed see; maybe more than she would have guessed on first meeting him.

She grinned and raised her glass in a salute. "Do you know what I like most about you, Teal'c?"

He turned back from a thorough sweep of the dim smoke-filled tavern. "I do not," he said. "However, I would be most interested to hear."

"Nothing ever seems to faze you, or wind you up," she said. "I envy that more than you can imagine." The wry smile made a return only this time tinged with depreciation. "Me, I'm too volatile and I know it. I go up like a bonfire when things get hot. Emotions- Bah!"

Teal'c bowed his head in thanks. "I thank you for the compliment. However, I believe your description of yourself describes many of the Tauri that I have seen. More, having lived among you for some time, I now suspect it has contributed to your success at defeating several powerful enemies."

Rebecca looked surprised, "Really? Nice thought."

Just then, Daniel chose to make his appearance. Wearing the tan cloak common to Saluran males, he pulled out and slid into the spare seat. Then huddling in he gestured for them to do the same. "I think we may have a problem," he announced in a hissed whisper. "I've just had an enlightening conversation with one of Neer'ah's serving girls."

"We're not getting any positive responses from our allies," advised General Hammond. His voice through the radio was steady and measured. "The Tok'ra and the Tollen could have a ship in the vicinity in a few weeks at best. It looks like we're on our own with this one."

"Well there's a surprise," muttered Daniel and then depressed the radio to transmit. "Uh, understood, General. We don't know how long before the Salurans realise there's no incoming traveller and tap into this frequency. Let's just say we're still doing our best with diplomatic route," he lied.

"Understood," echoed Hammond. "and as much as I don't like it, you don't need to keep me posted. I'll be in touch if I get any good news this end. Good luck, Dr Jackson. SGC out."

"It is indeed unfortunate that our allies are unable to lend assistance at this time," stated Teal'c.

If ever there was an understatement.

"You're telling me," griped Daniel. "You're not the one having to dress up as a woman." Scowling, he scratched at an itch on his crown through the coiffured wig.

Besides warning Daniel what she'd overheard the night before, the serving girl had set up a meeting with an informant inside the Saluran breeding complex. Now, with some persuading they had Morgana's passkey into it. The kicker was she'd only agree if they went in disguise. Rebecca had made a good argument about going in as a pair of women and seeing the sense it, he'd reluctantly agreed.

He was sure the Jaffa almost smiled before pointing out, "The false hair will dislodge if you continue to scratch at it." Then that proud bald head tilted assessingly, "And knol is excellent for giving structure to the eyes."

o-O-o

The breeding complex had been every bit as dark and miserably institutionalised as Rebecca had expected it to be. Obviously whoever manufactured that horrible grey paint back on earth had a galaxy wide monopoly. The hopeless inmates with their distended bellies on stick like frames and hollow, waxen faces had depressed the hell out of them.

They were back in the bar and Rebecca was knocking back a third fruity and she hoped, intoxicating beverage. "Somebody needs to be shot," she said. "That place is a disgrace to humanity."

For once Daniel didn't disagree with that point of view. Free of cosmetics and back in his BDU's, he lifted his glass to peer down at it. His deep frown had nothing to do with the contents. "I'm sure I speak for us all when I quote Jack and say, the sooner we get off this rock the better."

Teal'c allowed a small measure of surprise to cross his face. "You do not wish to try and persuade the Salurans to change their ways?"

"I won't need to," replied Daniel with a fleeting, grim smile. "According to the midwife we spoke to the ruling class here continue to make themselves infertile by willingly taking the drugs left behind by the aliens. I think it's done sometime after the onset of puberty-"

"It's how they set themselves apart now. As well as control population growth," interjected Rebecca with a twist of her lips, "and could you get anymore twisted?"

Elbows on the table to lean in, Daniel lowered his voice and ploughed on, "They've tried to synthesise it and got nowhere and now they're running out of stock and time. There's another rebellion brewing and if I had to guess, I'd say they'll target what's left of the drug and level the playing field again."

Returning the stare of a man whose interest was too persistent, Teal'c's suspicious nature asserted itself and once free of the stranger's perusal, he turned back to his comrades. "I am surprised this woman revealed their plans to you."

"Apparently we've inadvertently aided their cause. Or rather Neer'ah has with her hysterical drama. From what this Jennra said there's a lot of unrest in the city, especially among the men." His blue eyes did a quick, furtive sweep of the bar's mid-day patrons. Mostly male, some of them looked like they hadn't moved from the night before. "We got it wrong. It seems they haven't taken to being second-class stallions quite so…docilely after all."

"Nice phrasing." Rebecca tipped her glass at him in appreciation.

"Thanks."

As prosaic as ever, the Jaffa concentrated on his own priorities. "Will this resistance movement help us protect O'Neill and Major Carter when they approach the city?"

"No," Daniel shook his head. "So far the resistance have remained undetected and if they did anything too overt to help us, it would show their hand and possible scupper any attempts to overthrow the Council and their off-world bullies."

After the war ended and the new regime began, the surviving soldiers of Salura had been stripped of their weapons and refused positions that related in any way to the city's security. The automatic defences left behind by the aliens, along with a small number of hired-in help from neighbouring planets enforced the council's edicts with additional help being brought in as and when.

Teal'c was confused. "If that is so what was the purpose of the meeting?"

"Well," Daniel squinted and thought how to phrase it delicately, "Jennra is somewhat of an expert on Shre Laminia apparently. She comes from a long line of midwives going back way before the aliens arrived and as is usually the case with this type of thing, a lot of her knowledge is handed down. She told us things not contained in the archive."

Seeing his discomforted glance her way, Rebecca took over. "Such as the fact that Shre Laminia isn't just one law, but several and among other things it covers the ritual of marriage."

o-O-o

"Ah, you might wanna repeat that, Daniel. I thought you said marriage."

There was a short silence from the triangular radio Alman had given him. "Yes, Jack, I did say marriage."

"Okaayy, you've obviously been hit on the head," Jack said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Let me talk to Teal'c and go and lie down."

"No, Jack, seriously just listen."

"No way, forget it," Jack said bluntly. "Marrying Carter is not an option." He didn't look over to see her reaction. "Besides, do you see any padres around here? 'Cause I sure as hell don't."

He was sitting on a log to save his knees. A few feet away, Carter was sat on the long grass with her knees drawn up and an arm draped across them. Above them clouds scudded across the sky, giving a promise of more rain to come.

He finally turned Carter's way and gave her a 'there that got him' look. She had her poker face on and Jack could only hope his own was half as good. The second it had sunk in what exactly Daniel was suggesting, Jack had been torn in two when a deeply buried part of him had leapt at the idea; before logic and reality had kicked back in.

"Jack, just shut-up and listen." Daniel sounded worried and irritated.

Seeing Carter nod and shrug, Jack sighed and conceded with a sigh, "Listening."

"You don't need a priest. According to ancient law two people are married simply by the fact of having been…" faltering, Daniel choked on the next few words, "together, erm, sexually." Having got it out, he rushed on, "Not that you actually have to…erm, just…well, pretend you have in front of an audience."

There was a stunned pause. Snapping his jaw shut, Jack didn't dare look at Carter, not even a teeny peek. He stood up and holding the palm-sized radio closer then he needed to, exploded, "Oh, that's it. You have definitely lost it. That has got to be the most lame-brained, nuts idea I've ever heard." Nastily he added, "Even from you."

"Think about it," cajoled Daniel from the radio, "It's a scenario they can't possibly expect or turn around. More, by having invoked Shre Laminia themselves, Neer'ah and her cronies can't baulk when other aspects of it is brought into play. Even if they did ambush you, it wouldn't matter. All we need to do is make sure there's a crowd waiting to act as witnesses."

Jack felt like he was drowning and clutching at one slippery sonvabitchin' lifeline. There was an embarrassing whine in his voice when he said, "Hey, what the hell happened to the whole 'being in conflict and me the hunter to Carter's huntee' of a minute ago? I liked that one much better."

"You kissed and made up," quipped Daniel. "No, seriously Jack this just covers all the bases and all you have to do is lie and admit you- well, you-"

"I get it," interrupted Jack with a sneer, "So you can stop turning yourself inside out trying not to say it."

Suddenly finding the radio snatched out of his hand convinced Jack he should have kept a closer eye on his 2INC. His fingers closed twice over empty air before his hand and eyed her warily. Fortunately, or unfortunately the poker face was still in place and he couldn't read her.

"Daniel," she said, "This is Sam. What difference does being married make? I mean, I thought they didn't have marriage in Salura."

"Hey, Sam. And they don't…now," was the swift reply. "But they used to. It comes down the fact that Salura was once a patriarchal society just like earth of a few centuries ago. Marriage would mean that you couldn't be made a slave because you already belonged to someone." He sighed and sympathy rang clearly in his voice. "I know it sounds incredibly archaic and unfair, but, Sam, it's our best shot."

There was a stark pause while she digested that. "Hammond can't send troops through the 'gate unless we can sabotage the defences which are heavily guarded." After saying what they all knew, he finished with, "This way carries less risk and Morgana agrees we'd have a strong case to take before the council if Neer'ah tried anything."

When she said nothing, Daniel prompted, "Sam?"

"I'm here," she said with her shake of her head. Her smile was faint, resigned and wry, "I was just thinking I can't believe we're having to use ancient, chauvinistic laws to save me being turned into a slave in a society run by woman. Yeesh, I feel like Alice in Wonderland." Thinking about it, she added sardonically, "But that's nothing new for this place."

"You wouldn't really be married." soothed Daniel, "Not by our laws, or the Salurans'. They'd just think so."

Married. Without warning, Sam got a flashback of the widowed Dr Carter's tear-streaked face as she watched the colonel step back through the quantum mirror; gone for good. Coming back to, she blinked and blushed realising she'd been staring at him and he was staring back. Not wanting even a glimpse of his face, she turned around closed her eyes, before asking, "Are we certain they'll simply accept our word?"

When Daniel hesitated, she got the distinct impression that was the million dollar question. "According to tradition, yes," he finally answered.

Sam's heart sank into her belly and squeezed. "Right," she said tightly, "tradition."

o-O-o

Sam had been so numb she hadn't felt the radio taken out of her hands. A few second later she'd heard Colonel O'Neill estimate when they'd arrive within the vicinity of the city and arrange to meet up with Teal'c. That was good. Then at least they could communicate with Daniel through field radios again.

The plan was that when they knew when and where, Daniel would begin arranging the welcome wagon for the big announcement in case they had party crashers waiting in the wings. At that thought a tight bubble of hysteria worked its way up her diaphragm.

She tried to envision the setting and kept coming up blank. Oh, with the single exception of Neer'ah laughing her ass off and producing some kind of test that would prove they were lying. There was a cheery thought. For sanity's sake, Sam shoved it away and kept moving. She could be worrying for nothing. Neer'ah wasn't the sharpest knife in the box and could miss them altogether. If that was case then there'd be no need to make a fake marriage announcement.

A telling, hollow feeling in the depths of her gut had Sam shaking her head at herself. If she needed anymore proof that was it; this double-damned planet was making her crazy. When they got home, she was booking herself some solid, sane lab time with no interruptions of any kind. Heck, she'd lock the damn door if she had to.

Holding onto that thought, she forced her mind back to gnawing at the facts of their current situation.

It was the next afternoon and they were still at least a day's march away. It had been slow going what with the numerous hunters they were forced to avoid. All in all, Sam was just darned grateful the Salurans and their neighbours didn't have the equivalent of a dog, or they'd have been in some serious hot water long before now.

It was a hot and muggy day and sweat was dripping off her; particularly between her breasts and down her spine. She was sticky, tired and hot and probably stank to high heaven after five days on the run. Taking off the cap to swipe at her forehead, Sam grimaced and then pulled it back on with a sigh.

An hour later had them sloshing through a river as a way of avoiding leaving tracks which in turn would help them lose any pursuit they may have picked up. The water was downright, indecently delicious. Seeing how it swung in a semi-circle with heavily leafed bushes drooping laden branches into the sparkling surface, Sam made an impulsive decision.

The small white packet in one of her vest pockets seem to burn through the tough fabric. "Colonel," she called out to get his attention. When he swung around to look at her enquiringly, she said, "We can stop for ten minutes can't we?"

O'Neill glanced at his watch and then the sky to check both the time and their present position. "I guess," he said. "Care to tell me why though."

Wading over, Sam gave him a beaming smile and her MP5. When he took it, she pulled something out of her pocket, explaining, "I want a bath."

"You want a what?!" he exclaimed; then his eyes lit on the packet and widened further, "What is that? Is that soap? Jesus, Carter, you brought soap with you on the run?"

His outraged expression and tone made out it weighed ten pounds and she had no business carrying it around. Light-hearted and strangely relieved at the idea of getting somewhere approaching clean, Sam grinned and began unbuckling her vest to hand him that, too. "It's just a little bar of hotel soap, sir."

"I knew that," he shot back. Sam simply looked at him and waited patiently for a decision. A silent exchange later, he sighed, "Fine, just make it quick and don't use it all. Between the two of us, I reckon I need freshening up more." Tossing her vest over his shoulder, he made his way to the bank. Halfway there though, he changed his mind and came back to hold out a palm and demand, "Give it to me a second."

Doing so with an enquiring glance at his neutral expression, she caught on when he squatted down in the knee deep water to splash some on his face. That done, he ripped open the packet and used the small, white square to lather his chin. Finally and dripping with suds under her bemused stare, he handed it back with a soapy grin and retraced his steps.

Being in the military didn't allow for squeamishness or prudes. Wandering off to find a secluded spot wasn't on the cards and Sam didn't give it a second thought. Squatting similarly to the colonel, she lowered herself to a sitting position and after making sure she had her back to him, unbuttoned and unzipped what she could and made do.

Behind her she heard him dump the now bedraggled pack on the ground to rummage around for his shaving kit.

When she was done and with her wet, blonde hair flat to her skull, Sam waded out and caught the tail end of his shave. His hand was still with the blade pressed to his right jaw. Surprise that he hadn't finished yet gave way to nerves at the way he was looking at her; grim-faced but with a heated glitter in dark, dark eyes.

Uh oh. "Sir?" she asked a little too shakily.

"What are we doing, Carter, I mean really?" he asked her a little harshly. He waved a hand at the river so she'd know what he was referring to. "Think about it. Fugitives with a future to lose have no business worrying about being all April fresh."

Brows in the process of snapping down shot up again when Sam caught on. Trapped, she could only stare and breathe.

Before she could even think of a response the colonel's naked shoulder brushed past her and his, "never mind," sailed over her head; hardly denting her sluggish thought processes.

Too soon they crystallised into an awareness of what she'd been doing without even knowing she was doing it.

It wasn't so much what he was inferring that shocked her to the core, but that he was right. Under other circumstances bathing wouldn't have even entered her mind; it was a dumb risk to take. But tonight could very well be their last in the forest before a possible confrontation. At some deeply buried level of Sam's subconscious, she'd wanted to make sure she was…

A white haze blanketed her mind. What? Available, acceptable, desirable or all of the above?

Staggered, she walked slowly over to their gear. The real kicker or the second million dollar question was her motives. Was she thinking of him as the lesser of two evils; sleep with him or risk being locked up with a stranger if Daniel's source was wrong? Or, was she merely using their situation as an excuse to find out for certain if AU Carter had been right? Right about it being inevitable that she'd fall in love with the colonel like her alternate self had with her Jack.

Sickly, Sam realised she really didn't know for sure. She could already be in love with him and if she wasn't yet, she was well on the way. Certainly more now than before they'd come here. She tried to pinpoint the moments when a look or a stray, innocent touch had made her heart jump and couldn't, because there were too many of them.

Even when he was snapping at her there was usually something lurking at the back of his eyes that soothed the sting.

Oh boy!

Stood in the sun with her drying hair blowing abut her cheeks, Sam realised something that had been teasing at the edges of her mind for days. From the moment he'd gone hurtling into the unknown with her, her biggest defence had crumbled to nothing. Professionalism hadn't stood a chance. Everything about this nightmare was personal; starting with the threat of being raped and used as a baby making machine. Nobody could stay focussed and detached with that hanging over their head could they?

There were no alien devices left to figure out and jury-rigg to work with seconds to spare. Aside from keeping out of enemy hands there were no solutions to puzzle out. Literally trapped in a primordial forest with no mental challenges to throw herself into was it really so surprising that lost without that distraction, she'd had no choice except to focus inwards? And did it really matter the whys of it when what she'd found was a Pandora's Box of jumbled feelings for her CO that she suspected had first leapt out with her double, Dr Carter, and Major Kawalski.

Hands shaking, Sam grabbed up the pack and set it on her shoulders for no other reason than to do something. She kept coming back to one single thing. It was already too late to turn back the tide. She hadn't been able to bear being responsible for his death, or even losing him. A USAF Officer couldn't afford to let personal feelings get in the way. Her professionalism was already, permanently compromised.

A black pit yawned under her feet.

o-O-o

Jack sucked in a breath when the cool, eddying waters reached his waist. Jesus, it was damned cold. Telling himself he needed it and to suck it up made dunking himself completely no easier. Rising and shaking himself like a dog, he swiped to clear his face and his gaze fell on Carter stood stock still on the bank.

Oh Crap! He'd been unfair to her. A total ass!

Accusing her like that with the suggestion that she…no, they both had ulterior motives was totally out of line. Hell, he'd agreed to it hadn't he? She wasn't to blame for his reaction to seeing her bath herself, or that he'd looked and imagined his own hands running over that silky skin hidden under the sodden clothes?

Carter had done all she could to maintain decency. It was his own gutter mind that had supplied the rest. Then to realise the implications, mid-shave for crying out-loud and then take it out on her. Oh yeah, he was a bastard all right.

As soon as he'd finished he'd have to apologise to her. Big time. Then forget the damn stupid ideas he'd let float to the surface that had led to the impulse to remove his itchy pain-in-the-ass whiskers. The problem was his comfort had had nothing to do with it.

The river had done its job and his body was behaving itself, but that didn't wipe away the memory of the throbbing ache of a few minutes earlier. If only.

Watching those graceful, soapy hands rub and circle under the back t-shirt even from behind had set him on fire. Halfway admitting to himself he was in love with her the other night had made him vulnerable and the sudden injection of wild desire had been the last straw. His feelings were his problem, not hers. It was up to Jack to make sure neither of them was put in that position again.

So help him…

He hunkered down and only just stopped himself from reaching for her hand. "It's not that I don't want to answer," he started to say and then changed his mind. "Okay, it is. But only because I don't think I should."

That loaded statement threw her into a quandary; torn between the need to know and the certainty that ignorance was safer. From close by, deep brown eyes regarded her with shame, regret and…was that fear? There was a dull thud in her chest instead of a heartbeat. The need to know won. "What are you saying?"

He looked hunted. "Carter…Sam, please just let it go, okay?"

Right now he was feeling guilty enough to let her push. Something told Sam that if she let this moment go it would be a long time before she ever found out what it was, if ever. Having partially opened the door, she had to know what was on the other side. "I'm sorry, sir, I need to know."

It was the first time she could remember seeing the colonel look defeated and it almost made her retract and let him off the hook. Then with his head ducked down, he answered her, "I have, uhm," O'Neill faltered and long fingers rubbed between his brows. Dropping the hand, he looked away and tried again, "I have a problem I need to resolve about you."

He flicked her a glance that got chased away when they connected briefly, "A problem with me?" echoed Sam, quietly. Face averted, she could see he was uneasy in the extreme.

When he didn't answer straight away, she was beginning to think she'd had all she was going to get when he squinted at something in the distance and elaborated, "Yeah, I, erm, have…some feelings that, well…" Grimacing, O'Neill shrugged and she was sure if he could find a hole somewhere, he'd be in it.

"Feelings?"

He'd had enough and pushed to his feet, "Jesus, Carter, you need it spelled out? I have feelings for you, inappropriate ones, okay?!"

He was standing with his back to her and suddenly Sam wanted to smile, beam actually. Inside she felt an intense, giddy relief. Hearing him say it; so unsure and embarrassed settled some of the maelstrom inside her. Sam felt steadier. "Good," she said loudly.

O'Neill whirled, unable to believe his ears. "Good?!"

"Okay, not good- good," she conceded, "but, I am glad it's not just me."

She saw the pins click into place that set the wheels turning. Like a switch had been flipped, he calmed down and actually maintained eye contact. "Oh. So, you, too, huh?"

"Yeah," Sam felt funny admitting it. She cleared her throat to ask, "So, how long?"

"Awhile," he said, shoving his hands in pockets and rocking back on his heels. "You?"

She was almost embarrassed to admit it, "I just figured it out, so much for being the brainiac, huh?"

He gave her a smile that had her belly doing flip-flops. "I had to luck out sometime."

Since they were being so open it seemed a good time to bring it up. Hesitantly, Sam confessed, "I was thinking when we get back, I'll talk to Hammond. Maybe get re-assigned to another team-"

So much for being calm. "Whoa! What? Now just hold up a damned minute. No way will you bring this up with Hammond." His glare was hot and immediate. Without her seeing him move, O'Neill closed the distance until he stood over her.

She stood, too, and wiped nervous hands on her pants, "I wasn't going to mention you and well, how you might feel."

He wasn't having any of it. "Good. And you won't mention anything you might feel either."

She stared, "But-"

"No buts, Carter, that's an order." Recalcitrant, he told her how it was going to be. "We'll work this out. Nobody else has to know."

Disbelievingly, Sam shook her head slowly from side-to-side. "Colonel, I've already made some serious misjudgements this mission." Tossing up a hand, she pointed out in case he needed a reminder, "I shot you for Gods sake and all because I couldn't stand by and maybe watch you die."

"This whole mission has been a case of serious misjudgement." That easily, he brushed her insubordination away. "As for the rest, I feel the same way. It's called being a human being- be proud. Heck, I've never been able to stand back and let a team member fall, if I can possibly help it, and I've never been in love with one before."

That threw her. Oh God! He'd actually used the L-word. He loved her. He really, really loved her. Despite everything, Sam felt honoured and cherished. Her gaze softened even when she denied him the answer he so clearly wanted. "Colonel, the regs are there for a reason. I've never gone against them before."

"The regs weren't created for missions involving saving the whole planet and six billion people. What you did affected only the two of us. If it had been a replicator attack or a Goa'uld you'd have acted differently and we both know it."

When he put it like that, she had to concede he was right. Still there was one major obstacle to his denial scenario. "I appreciate what you're trying to do, really."

O'Neill stiffened and his eyes narrowed to slits. He must have sensed there was something coming from way out of left-field.

This conversation had been enlightening in many ways. Sam didn't need to sleep with him to see if she really did love him. Irritatingly it had taken her reaction to hearing his stuttered confession to know that for certain. Her blinders were off and that question was answered, but it seemed her motives had been two pronged after all. She wished it were otherwise, but she wasn't a machine. He deserved to know the reason why she was going to ask him to do something that could split his team apart.

"But a part of being a human being is knowing my limits. The risk of being shot or killed is something we all accept and I suppose so is being raped, but that risk has always been something I could just acknowledge and shove out of sight. Now I can't-"

"Hey, hey, hey, that's never going to happen." Moved to offer comfort, his hands clasped her upper arms, smoothing up and down to warm her chilled skin.

"We can't be sure, sir," she countered. "Can you really see Neer'ah just accepting our word and slinking off with her tail between her legs? Because I can't."

His hands tightened, the long fingers reaching effortlessly around her limbs. "It's a risk I'll grant you."

"I see it as more than that."

"So, we stay here and wait for another solution. We have options. We'll think up a plan B or C or whatever the hell letter we're at."

Not for the first time, Sam felt awkward at shooting him down, but did it anyway. "We have no idea how long it might be before there's a rescue. There's no way we can stay undetected for weeks. We've been lucky so far is all. Luck always runs out sometime."

Finally impatience won and he dropped his hands to ask bluntly, "Major, where's this going? Gimme a clue. I'll buy a vowel."

She missed the contact with him, as little as it had been. "If it all goes bad and my freedom relies on passing some sort of test demanded by Neer'ah. I don't want to be caught out in a lie."

o-O-o

Whatever reaction Sam had expected from Colonel O'Neill it hadn't been for him to stare at her silently; then turn around and pick up the pack to sling over his shoulders accompanied by a curt order to move out.

Okay, so she'd obviously surprised him with it; possibly shocked him…right out of his socks. Back on the move, he kept ahead of her just enough so any conversation was impossible. Sam trudged along behind him until it dawned on her that he might think she was simply using him. The timing stunk. She'd only admitted having feelings for him after he'd already confessed; then asked him to make love to her so she wouldn't get turned into Salura's version of a sex-slave.

Damn! It made horrible sense even if it was utterly, totally and completely wrong. This wasn't a case of 'she was in trouble and anyone she knew would do'. If he didn't love her, or her him she would never have even considered it. The thing was how to convince him of that? Groaning to herself, she realised she'd stopped moving and quickened her pace to a lope so she could catch up before O'Neill noticed she'd fallen behind yet again.

The terrain was getting hillier meaning they were getting closer to the city. At this pace and with the hunters seeming to have left the area, they would definitely arrive late afternoon tomorrow. Shying away from the last point, Sam concentrated on the second. There was a definite reduction in sightings from several a day down to zero.

The most logical explanation she could come up with was that they'd been pulled back to the city's perimeter. With no dedicated security forces to fall back on and a limited number of mercenaries and bounty hunters, Neer'ah had probably had to recall them all in order to cover all of the possible entrances from the forest.

If she was right tomorrow was going to be fun- not, but at least they could relax a little today. Watching the broad back disappear as O'Neill bounded over the broken up and rotted remains of a fallen tree, Sam wondered if 'relaxed' would ever figure anywhere in her dealings with him ever again.

Wishing she'd kept her mouth shut wasn't going to cut it. She still felt the same way and would do it again; if phrase it a whole lot better. Not that it mattered now. Somehow Sam couldn't see herself working up the nerve for a take II.

However, her conclusions about the lack of activity in the forest could work as an ice-breaker. It had better. She didn't fancy freezing from disapproval while trying to get to sleep tonight. Not that she figured on getting any. Tomorrow was D-day and she felt like she was walking on very thin ice; headed for a volcano. God knows she loved them.

Jogging again to close the distance, Sam saw the colonel stiffen and forced a light tone, "Is it just me or has the crowd thinned out hereabouts?"

O'Neill glanced at her, his expression shuttered and unreadable, before averting his face again to gaze steadily at the horizon. "Yup, the party's gotten quieter that's for sure."

Doggedly, Sam persisted, "Any thoughts on why?"

"Not really. I leave the thinking to you, Major," he said without any inflection at all. "But, since you ask, my best guess would be they've been pulled back to cover the city."

Disheartened, Sam decided then and there she much preferred him calling her Carter to using her rank. Determined to introduce a shred of normality, she gave a satisfied nod, saying, "My thoughts exactly."

"Which is why we're headed for that cave." She followed where he pointed to a small black hole surrounded by bushes and shrub in the distance. "And I suggest we start picking up some firewood, 'cause those clouds in that sky suggest our recent sunny spell is about to come to a very wet, noisy end."

Sam gave the sky an assessing look of her own and agreed. There was definitely a storm brewing by the looks of it. She began picking up likely looking twigs and branches and so did O'Neill.

Half an hour later the fire was built and lit with more fuel piled nearby to add to it and keep it going. Outside it had gotten progressively darker which in turn made the cave, with flickers of arrange playing over rock walls, actually seem cosy. Standing at the cave mouth with her back to the fire, Sam shivered and rubbed her arms. As she did the heavens opened and in the distance thunder rolled with its deep throated threat.

When the first brilliant flash of lightening lit the sky to white, she turned to go back in and walked into a solid body. Jerking her eyes up, she was instantly transfixed by the way the colonel was looking at her. This close and in the gloom, he looked taller and his handsome face was missing its usual laconic humour.

"Sir?" she queried.

"In the circumstances why don't we stick with Jack and Sam? For now anyway."

She swallowed a sudden ball of uncertainty. "Circumstances?"

"I've been thinking about your request."

She didn't have to ask which one. "You-you have?"

"Ever since you made it," he confirmed, adding, "I have a few conditions for you."

What else could she say except? "Okay."

"This stays between the two of us if possible. Daniel and Teal'c at a push, but that's it," he said unequivocally, "It never features in any mission report, or talks with Hammond. I mean it, Sam, no guilt trips ending in a confession to anyone outside of the team. I refuse to lose you to some jarhead who won't appreciate the treasure he has."

Treasure? He thought she was a treasure? Sam forced that giddy thought away, "How can we carry on as if nothing's happened."

"If I can, you can," said O'Neill. "Tonight, we ditch the regs and the ranks and tomorrow we pick 'em up, dust 'em off and carry on- business as usual." Taking a deep breath and holding her gaze fast, he finished softly, "And we never mention this ever again. That's my condition, Sam. Take it or leave it."

Take it or leave it. Take it or leave it. Take him and keep him. A precipice loomed and taking a leap of faith that he was right, Sam stepped over it. "I agree."

O'Neill's solemn expression didn't change. "Then c'mere."

The hands at her waist seemed to reel her in. Surprised by the suddenness of the move her hands came up to lie, palms flat, to a warm chest covered in a now dry t-shirt. His breath fanned her nose and lips before a beguiling warmth covered her chilled lips. Hands fisting into cloth, Sam leaned in and let herself go. No matter what else was going on, she wanted this so damned much.

Just this once, she told herself.

That was Sam's last coherent thought for quite a while. Soft, languid brushes of firm lips stole her breath and then gave it back when her own parted. Exploring the pliant flesh along with her jaw and chin with exquisite gentleness, Jack brought up a hand to cup her face in one large hand. His thumb caressed the plump curve of her lower lip before tipping up her chin; changing the angle of the kiss to dip inside and plumb deeper.

Lost to everything except sensory overload, Sam moaned when he retreated too soon. Teased and then starved, her very centre shifted with that tantalisingly brief taste of him. Before she could demand more, blunt teeth nipped at her bottom lip and a tug at her waist urged her to move with him and retreat deeper into the cave.

Skirting the fire, she followed where he led. When insistent hands tugged at her t-shirt, she obediently lifted her arms so the material could be pulled over her head. Left with her bra, her skin roughed with goose-bumps that had nothing to do with cold when callused yet gentle hands cupped her breasts through the plain, utilitarian nylon. O'Neill kissed her once, brief and firm and she chased his foraging tongue. Then he brushed his thumbs brushed over tight, aching buds; leaving Sam gasping at the twin flares of pleasure that shot from breast to womb.

Eyes sliding helplessly shut and holding tight to his shoulders for balance, her head tipped back when he carried on the torment with slow circles. God! It had been too long since she'd been touched like this; cherishingly, worshipfully, but most of all, lovingly.

Taking advantage of the exposed curve of neck, strangely heated lips attached themselves to the cord there and slid down, leaving a damp, sizzling trail. His hair tickled and Sam dropped her head to nestle him in. Wrapping her arms around broad shoulders and clutching him closer, it occurred to her that the colonel didn't go in for wham-bam-thank you-ma'm.

Last night had been a terrible mistake, Jack realised. Possibly one of the worst he'd ever made. His memories of it contradicted that realisation though. He doubted there was a poetic bone in his body, but words like; silken, voluptuous, molten and mind-blowing kept floating into his head; along with hot as hell of course.

Making love to Sam had been like sinking into bliss; impossibly warm, giving, electric and unforgettable bliss. He should have stopped with once, but waking up after the first time to find her nestled into him had made that semi-sensible course out of the question. After that, caution and consequences had been tossed aside. The way they'd acted you'd think the world was ending and they only had a few hours and each other to spend them with.

Jesus! His legs felt like jello. They'd been nuts, totally insane. The upside of it was his knees weren't hurting; probably because he couldn't feel the damn things. His back more than made up for the lack, though. Jack would swear he'd creaked getting to his feet this morning.

True to their word they hadn't spoken about it since waking up to full daylight spilling in from the cave mouth. The hell of it was, he'd set the conditions, but not knowing what she was thinking behind that blank, beautiful face was killing him.

Chomping down on his lower lip to keep his inane, needy questions safely unspoken, Jack wished he had half of her resolve. She'd made a decision, agreed, and had now moved on. Or so it seemed. Glancing up from mindlessly watching his boots squelch into the muddy track their gazes clashed. Awareness mushroomed out of nowhere.

She'd stopped, so he did, too. Oh crap! He thought, struck by an unhappy insight. I was just about handling being in love with her, never mind knowing exactly what it was like to curl up with her; inside her. He was doomed if he didn't find a way to cope.

Awkwardly, Sam said, "We're getting close to where you agreed to meet up with Teal'c." Clearing her throat, she set her chin, "I didn't ask you before, but did you agree some sort of signal?"

"No," he told her and peered into the surrounding forest as if he expected to see the Jaffa step out from a bush, "No signal. Teal'c was just going to find us."

"I am here, O'Neill," announced a deep voice from behind them.

Jack whirled. "Fer crying out loud, Teal'c," he exclaimed. "Have you been following us? Why didn't you just speak up?"

Teal'c was unfazed and said, "You appeared deep in thought. I was waiting for an appropriate time so as not to startle you."

Jack didn't dare look at Carter although he could feel her questioning glance his way. "Yeah, well, next time feel free to interrupt and let me worry about my nervous disposition."

The bald, broad head bowed in acceptance. "It is good to see you both alive and well."

"Ditto." They said in unison and what followed was an awkward pause that had Teal'c's gaze bouncing between his two friends.

Jack held out a hand for the Jaffa's field radio. "Let's talk to Danny-boy and get this damned show on the road. I want outta here, ASAP."

o-O-o

"Got it, Jack," said Daniel into the radio clipped to his vest. He looked up to find Rebecca and the women assembled with her in Morgana's chambers all looking expectantly at him. "They're ready. It'll take them approximately an hour to get to the chosen entry point. We need to be in place just before then."

"Assuming they get that far before being apprehended," pointed out Morgana. She was stood amidst a number of other hand-picked council members. He knew a few of them and others were strangers. All looked visibly uneasy at being there in so clandestine a manner. "And when are we going to find out where exactly?"

"When we can trust that it's too late for that juicy tit-bit not to leak out," answered Rebecca candidly. "I'm not pointing fingers at anyone in this room, but even in the short time I've been here, I've had trust issues with some of your colleagues." Grimacing at some recent encounters, she added, "And not just the bitches from hell."

In response, Morgana levelled a reproachful look at her, saying, "Given your often colourful manner of speaking, I can't say I'm surprised. Never take up politics, my dear."

"I'll make a point not to," Rebecca grinned.

"After all of my help you don't trust me?" Archly, Morgana brought Daniel into the conversion.

He winced at the pointed and unnecessary reminder with its strong dose of guilt tagged on; especially considering what he knew of the brewing revolution. "It's not that we don't trust you per se," he tried, "and your help is deeply appreciated. Please, don't think otherwise-"

"But you don't trust me enough," Morgana butted in, "which is understandable, I suppose."

"Ah, yeah, thanks," seeing he had confused her, he finished off lamely, "For the understanding that is."

Feeling himself start to flush, Daniel headed for the door, saying over his shoulder, "Let's make a move shall we."

o-O-o

The other three members of SG-1 continued the last leg of the return journey together. Teal'c took the lead having already successfully bypassed the waiting mercenaries covering this area. With his attention and considerable senses focused on what lay ahead, he explained what was being done to smooth the way.

"Daniel Jackson is leading a number of Salura's council around the city. They will be moving from place-to-place to confuse any attempts to follow. During this, Dr Stanislow will make contact with others who have joined our cause through the midwife, Jennra. They will be dressed similarly to the council members and will break off at well populated points. It is hoped that if Neer'ah, or her sister have security forces trailing them, they will be forced to split up and thus lessen their numbers."

"It sounds simple," said Sam adding uneasily, "maybe even a little too simple."

"Ya think?" Jack retorted. "It sounds way too complicated to me."

"Despite superior weaponry, Salura have limited mobile security resource available and they are already stretched to cover the perimeter-"

"Yeah, we figured that one out for ourselves," interrupted Jack. "I get what the plan is. I'm just a little uneasy over how it only seems to be about thinning out the opposition and not neutralising them. I'm demanding that way."

"Neutralising them without engaging in a battle would not be possible, O'Neill." Teal'c slid him a speaking glance, "Was it not deemed too risky to attempt such an undertaking?"

Something clicked for Jack and he pointed a finger at the Jaffa, saying, "Hey, you're still smarting about me ordering you back to earth when the crap hit the fan aren't you?"

Ahead of them, Teal'c's back stiffened and his head rose proudly but didn't turn. "I am not."

"Are, too," Jack shot back and he turned to Sam. "He is, yano."

Sam couldn't help it; despite the gravity of what they were heading towards, the kid in him could always make her grin. Yikes, talk about forty eight going on fifteen. Lips curving into one now, she saw him match it and in that second something inside of her warmed and shifted back into easy comfort with dizzying relief.

Without even admitting it to herself, she'd been terrified that newly confessed feelings and then making love with him might have ended up costing her a friend as well as a comrade somewhere down the road. Now she was certain they wouldn't.

Oh God! They were going to be okay. No, more than that they were going to be really okay!

Teal'c warning hiss of approaching danger broke the spell of that blossoming joy, but it still surged strong and sure even as Sam took cover behind a clump of bushes and the thick trunk of a towering tree. Overhead the deep-throated hum of a ship seemed to hover for a nerve-wrackingly long time. In the distance they heard voices and glancing over to the colonel, she caught him miming for silence.

They had to be getting dangerously close to the city. An hour ago, when she'd felt as if she were stomping on her last nerve, this would have had her sweating buckets. Now, none of it impinged on the welcome return of calm assurance.

Crouching down amidst leaves, moss and gnarled roots to scan the forest ahead for enemies might seem like a weird time for optimism to rear its head again, but for the first time in what seemed an age, Sam was sure they were going to get out of this mess- together. There was only one thing that was currently bothering her: their missing team-mate.

When Teal'c stood up and moved back onto the mud track to indicate all was clear again, she waited for the colonel to emerge and then grinned at him cockily, "What say we go and pick up Daniel and this anthropologist and then get the hell out of dodge, sir?"

From under untidy silver streaked hair, warm, chocolate brown eyes seemed to caress her lips for a second. Then he gave her that tip-tilted smile complete with dimples and said, "Sounds like a plan to me, Major."

o-O-o

Using his elbows to forge a path between the milling crowds of the market, Daniel watched out of the corner of his eye as Rebecca darted away from their group; quickly being swallowed by a wall of humanity. Crossing his fingers he was doing the right thing in letting a woman; moreover one with no military experience whatsoever, put herself in the line of fire, he edged his way over towards the eastern gate.

Unbidden, another parallel to his early days in SG-1 popped into his head. No wonder Jack, and probably the general, had insisted on keeping him on such a short leash at first. Not that he hadn't gotten himself in plenty of tangles despite that over the last three years. Shoving that back to the unmentionable side of his brain again; one thought led to another and uneasily, Daniel wondered when he'd begun being able to actually understand the military mind, or at least the SGC arm of it.

That last distinction went a long way towards easing his mind. The base under Hammond's command was actually a fairly human, reasonable place to work; fringe benefits of space travel and exploring ancient off-world civilisations aside.

Reaching the main path to the gate with its long line of produce laden carts pulled by what looked like a cross between a donkey and a llama, Daniel took advantage of one to bend down and instead of fixing his perfectly tied laces, he used the opportunity to check the crowd they'd just emerged from.

Of the original six he'd gradually picked out as potential mercenaries, four of the cloaked and hooded figures had split off. The last two he assumed were trailing Rebecca.

Dammit, there was that twinge of worry again.

"When are we going to stop traipsing all over the worst, most crowded and polluted parts of the city?" demanded an irate Morgana, hissing the question in his ear.

"Soon," he promised her. Adding a silent, I hope.

o-O-o

On the opposite side of the city to the markets where the landing pads for visiting spacecraft. Skirting the fringes to avoid the security fields she'd been warned about, Rebecca marvelled at the differences between the east and west. Put very simply they were astronomical. Here the mark left by the unnamed aliens had been left largely intact. In fact, and from what she'd been told, this and the stargate receiving room where the only two locations where the survivors hadn't done their utmost to wipe all evidence of them away.

Not that she blamed them. In their place, she wouldn't want any reminders either.

Apparently, only the elite got to integrate any of the alien technology into their everyday lives and even then it was guiltily hidden away when not in use; such as Morgana's archive console which rose up and disappeared underneath the floor at the push of a button.

Forcing herself not to just stand and goggle at the sight of spaceships landing on huge oval slabs of metal, Rebecca got back to the problem at hand; she was totally lost.

"Just my bloody luck," she muttered. "Maybe I should have taken a left at that last block."

Crap, crap, crap, crap. There was no hope for it. She was going to have to retrace her steps. Turning to do so, she bumped into someone that had her heart plummeting to somewhere in the region of her feet. Before she could think to step away, a hand grasped her elbow in a hard no-nonsense grip.

Blinking in shock, Rebecca stared up into a cold face that was only about fifty percent human. Scared out of her wits, she dazedly noted mottled skin, the lack of nostrils and black eyes with no white in them all in them. "You are to come with me," it instructed. Given the fact that 'he', she was assuming it was male, had about a 2ft on her and was at least twice as wide, Rebecca didn't see she had much choice.

Typical. All of a sudden the goons that had hijacked her in Chicago looked like teletubbies in comparison.

Licking dry lips, she tried reasoning, "Look, can't we talk about-"

A sudden harsh yank to get her moving cut her off. Glaring a protest, she snarled, "Fine! Obviously talking is out."

o-O-o

In the middle of peering out of the alley they were lurking in, Daniel's radio squawked from his vest. Heart leaping, he thumbed it and grumbled, "It's about time you showed up."

"E-easy" said Jack. "We hot-footed it here as quick as we could. You're not the one with blisters on your blisters, so quit griping."

Frowning at the realisation that he'd actually missed this man's company for some unfathomable reason, Daniel stepped back into semi-concealment and asked, "Where are you exactly? Is Sam, okay?"

"Carter's fine" was the swift reply, "And we're just over the ridge; which by the way, is swarming with big guys in cloaks and sporting some kind of rifle." There was a telling pause. "So much for clearing the way. Nice plan. Got any others?"

Damn! "Ah, that would be no," grimacing, Daniel scrubbed a hand over his face and nape to clear some of his mounting tension. "I guess we'll just have to see it through with the bluff."

A deep sigh puffed out over the airwaves, followed by a dry, "Yeah, lord knows, I'm a big fan of bluffing."

"Jack-"

"Never mind," the voice on the radio cut him off. "I don't suppose you have any grenades on your belt?"

It was a well known fact in the SGC that Dr Jackson hated them with a passion and would leave them behind half the time. This trip though, he'd been more than happy to take along the whole kit.

"Uh, yeah, I do." Feeling for where they should be, Daniel came up blank and felt his face drain of colour. "Make that I did have." Bracing for an explosion of disbelief, he explained, "I had two this morning, I even checked for the damn things in case of an emergency. Now they're gone."

"Dan-niel."

"I know. I know. I should take better care of my arsenal." Sighing and waving a hand that couldn't be seen, he defended himself. "Hey, still just an archaeologist here."

"Who could have taken them?"

Daniel could only think of one person. "Rebecca," he admitted low and with a frown grooving deep creases across his brow. "I can't even begin to imagine why."

"The anthropologist stole your grenades?"

Daniel could just see Jack shaking his head and sharing a look of incredulity with Sam. Screwing up his face in self disgust for not keeping a better eye on her, he dug deep for some flimsy excuse and came up with, "What can I say? She's a little unconventional."

"Oh, you are sooo gonna have to do better than that, Daniel."

"Look, you can ream me out later. As much as I know you're dying to carry on now, it really isn't the time, Jack," he pointed out. "We need to decide what are we going to do? Stick with the plan or make up a new one at the very last second?"

"Have I ever told you your crisis options suck as much as, Carter's?" Jack complained and gusted out a resigned sigh. "Fine we go with the bluff," he said before adding a cynical aside, "and play it by ear if that goes bye-bye, too. I hope she didn't get your rifle, too?"

o-O-o

Daniel led the by now wilting council members out of the gate and towards the nearest group of armed mercenaries. With both arms held out wide to the side so they wouldn't get trigger happy and start blasting, he pasted on his most sincere smile.

"Good morning," he called out. "Or, is it afternoon already?"

Two of the seven turned towards him and watched them approach out of hostile eyes. Daniel got the feeling that if it wasn't for Morgana and the others he may have ended up shot anyway. Behind them, carts continued to trundle in and out of the east gate. A few pedestrians caught onto the potential drama and stopping others they pointed at the usual confrontation.

Obviously Salura was lacking a decent entertainment industry.

"State your business and stay clear," demanded one of the mercenaries in a guttural accent. He raised the muzzle of his weapon in a silent warning. Feral blue eyes flickered over the faces of the council and then focused back on Daniel. He didn't look happy, but he didn't look like he was going to budge anytime soon either.

These mercenaries were very definitely human, but of the worst variety. Familiar with the type of meanness that could stare out of a man's eyes, Daniel was struck by two things; they wouldn't hesitate to kill and they were disgustingly rank. If they'd gotten a bath in the last year it hadn't involved soap. Under the gaping cloaks their clothes looked no better and they had decoration tied into long greasy hair in a manner similar to that of the celebrated Celts of the Scottish Highlands.

Normally, Daniel would have been intrigued. Now he just wanted them gone.

"My business?" he echoed with feigned innocence, "Oh, its really very simple." Pointing behind just as the other five mercenaries stiffened, he said, "I'm here to meet them."

'Them' happened to be Jack and Sam as they walked sedately out of the tree-line and up the ridges incline in a course leading directly to them. Teal'c was nowhere to be seen. Looking a little bedraggled but no worse for wear, Sam was leading the way with her arms up and fingers linked behind her head. Behind her, Jack looked as casual as could be with his MP5 aimed at the middle of her back. Hers was slung across his chest.

When seven intent figures spread out to surround them with weapons trained and obviously read to fire, Jack looked merely interested. "Howdy, kids, what's this, the welcome wagon? I'm touched, really."

"Don't be. We'll be relieving you of your prisoner," sneered guttural-guy. He was obviously the leader, surmised Daniel. As much as a rag-tag bunch like this actually had a chain of command anyway.

The crowd of passers-by began to swell and edge closer to the action. Tilting his head, Jack smiled and it wasn't pleasant. "Oh, I don't think so. This one's mine. Sorry, guys, I guess that means you'll just have to go find your own blonde."

Standing completely still with her hands up, Sam was so stoic-faced only Daniel caught the tiny eye roll she gave to that statement. If it was possible his admiration for this woman would have raised another notch at the way she was holding up. Most other people, himself included, would be a strung-out wreck by now.

"Maybe being a stranger to these parts and all, you didn't understand me," offered the mercenary with a wolfish grin that was matched by his comrades. "I said we'll be taking her off your hands and in case you were wondering, I ain't askin'."

Just as carefully, Jack enunciated, "My wife is not going anywhere with you."

That was Daniel's cue. Taking a cautious step forward to stand just outside the tense circle, he asked, "Sam, do you agree that you're married? That you, erm, became-"

"Intimate, yes," she interrupted with a tiny upward curve of her mouth. Catching her gaze, he saw the gentle tease held in blue eyes for his continued discomfort in actually saying it.

Determined not to fluff anymore of his lines, he turned back to Morgana who'd remained diplomatically silent until now. Raising his brows behind his glasses, he said, "Well, Councillor, I think that satisfies the requirements of Shre Laminia, don't you?"

"I would say so, yes. Congratulations on your marriage, Colonel O'Neill, and you, too, of course, Major."

A ripple ran through the council members and huddling together they began to talk in excited whispers amongst themselves. Further back the same phenomenon happened with the crowd.

Irritated the mercenary turned his gun on Daniel. "Oy! Who said you could interfere?"

In the middle of it all, the crowd parted to reveal Neer'ah stalking across the grass and she wasn't alone. Apart from another half dozen mercenaries there was a huge hulking brute hauling Rebecca along in his wake. Unable to believe how easily and quickly everything could get complicated, Daniel gave a long, silent and heartfelt groan.

If he didn't miss his guess the plan had just gone to hell in a hand-basket.

"I would say you're out-gunned, Jack O'Neill," Neer'ah said triumphantly; so saying she aimed a spiteful stare at Sam. "That means the prize is mine."

"Ya think?!" shot back, Jack, "'Cause you're wrong. You missed the big announcement. Tell her Daniel."

His MP5 wavered between her and the nearest stinking brute to Sam. It eventually settled on the brute. Only those who knew Jack O'Neill could appreciate what a close call Neer'ah had just had. Recognising the simmer in nearly black, wrath-slitted eyes, Daniel leapt to fill in the details.

"He's right, Neer'ah. Under the laws of Shre Laminia, which you yourself invoked, Jack and Sam are married." Enjoying this part, Daniel let a pause develop before delivering the punch-line. "I don't know if you're aware of this, but the marriage element actually…well, I guess you could say outranks the 'prize' bit."

Thin nostrils flared with fury. "You're lying," she bit out with a toss of long hair.

"Actually, no, I'm not" countered Daniel. "Ask Morgana."

"I would except I wouldn't trust anything she says," and flicking the councillor a sneering glance, she raised her voice so everyone could hear. "Morgana has turned traitor. She gives her allegiance to strangers instead of her own people. Nothing she says or does can be trusted by anyone."

Into the staggered silence, Neer'ah finished with a flourish, "And if you want proof, I have plenty of it."

"Why you little bitch!" Morgana's face suffused with red. "How dare you accuse me of being a traitor when it is you who has carried on with this…this farce in a desperate attempt to hide your own humiliating failures?"

"Lies, all of it," refuted Neer'ah loud enough to be over-heard, "told to her by these aliens who came here to steal our very defences-"

Fists clenched at her sides now, Sam erupted, "Hey, that's a damn lie. We came to trade not steal."

"Does anyone else think we're kinda straying off topic here?" interjected, Jack in an aggrieved tone. "What say we get back to the part where we're free to go home now?"

That got him a reaction; a gun shoved in his face. Fetid breath stank up his air as the leader of the mercenaries leaned in to say bluntly, "You ain't going nowhere until I get my money."

Laying a delicate finger on the barrel not so dissimilar to his own, Jack pushed it a little aside, "Easy there, big fella. What's your mullah, or lack of it got to do with me and my team?"

"I think I can answer that one for you, Colonel," said Neer'ah and the expression on her face had him stiffening and wishing he'd shot the silly bitch after all. "I promised them all a fortune after they've helped me take over the city." Having dropped that little bombshell, she continued, "When it occurred to me how I could ensure your capture, I thought why not take it one step further." Slim shoulders shrugged nonchalantly, "Salura is about to be mine and so is everyone in it."

"Oh fer…has anyone ever told you you're as nutty as a fruit cake?" Jack looked like he couldn't believe what he was hearing. "A few fries short of a Happy Meal, maybe?"

Morgana had heard enough, too. Despite white-hot fury, she was calm and relatively speaking, composed. "Oh I couldn't agree more, Colonel," she said, "Although you'll have to explain 'happy meal' at a later date."

Adopting authority like a mantle, she turned her attention to the first group of mercenaries and said, "I know you know who I am, so I'm going to be brief. This lunacy has gone quite far enough. Take Neer'ah into custody and place her in a holding cell."

Nobody moved. Twin spots of fury lit her cheeks. "Do it now! Or I swear you'll get no more work from Salura."

Gutteral-guy slid Neer'ah a questioning glance. Calmly she said, "Kill her. In fact, kill them all; including my sister snivelling about lost prestige in her rooms. I want nobody left to stand in my way."

In a heartbeat the long-running, improbable farce had turned deadly. All it had taken was greed and more than a hint of cleverly hidden madness. Before any of SG-1 could react, Morgana was thrown backwards by the force of a blast that cratered her entire middle in an explosion of red. Above it, her face was paper white and expression frozen into sheer shock.

Like a signal had gone off all hell broke loose. In the distance, a boom interrupted the terrified screams of the milling crowd who'd come to see a drama and not a massacre. Meanwhile, a mushroom cloud rose up over the city in a boiling mass of smoke and flames.

Clubbing a mercenary because he was too close to bring up the MP5, Jack shot a second point blank in the face as he yanked Sam's rifle over his head. He shoved it into her free hand while she let loose with some zat blasts at someone behind him. Daniel found himself grabbed by his vests webbing and half dragged over to Teal'c who was loping towards them with his staff weapon blasting at anyone who tried to stop SG-1 from breaking free from the fracas.

Seeing Sam was going for Rebecca, he let himself be dragged to the cover of a cart Teal'c had overturned. Only to fall to his knees when Jack let go to lunge back for the women. Between them they laid cover fire and prayed.

When Jack emerged, supporting Rebecca with one hand and with Sam protecting their six, Daniel held his breath and only released it when they where all panting, safely out of the way. Before them in a gory tableau the ridge lying between Salura and the forest was littered with bodies.

"Does anyone wanna tell me what the hell's going on?" yelled Jack over the din of firepower, their own included.

"Is anyone hurt?" asked Daniel too busy shooting at the Celt wannabes to actually look and see for himself.

"No, nobody's hurt," yelled back, Sam, aiming and firing herself, "I don't know about you, but I call that a miraculous escape."

"I concur," said Teal'c, and then whipped around to take off an encroaching enemy's head with a single shot from the staff in his hands. That done, he added, "However, I suggest we leave this place and return to the stargate."

Letting off a last volley to gain time, Jack agreed and signalled for them all to follow as he scrambled away on his front. Teal'c remained a few seconds longer until they'd got clear enough to make a run for the east gate. Just as they cleared it, a second blast, smaller this time rent the air.

Running felt pelt between now deserted market stalls, Jack got back to his earlier question. "Who's causing those explosions, Neer'ah, maybe?"

"Why would she blow up the city she wants to take over?" asked Sam, "It doesn't make any sense."

"And that's a surprise how?" he snarked, "She's fruit-loopy."

"I'm thinking more of a revolution…other than hers," said Daniel, pushing his glasses back up his nose when they insisted on slipping down.

Replacing his by now empty magazine, Jack did a spinning circle mid run to check behind them. Daniel's guess almost had him tripping over his own feet. "You mean this is a revolution on top of a revolution. A double coup. Wonderful and we're stuck in the middle!"

To make matters worse the road they needed to take was blocked by another fire fight. Taking a detour into smaller side road, Daniel was struck by a thought and flicked a sharp glance at a suspiciously silent, Rebecca. "You took my grenades," he asserted, "Why?"

When she didn't answer straight away, Jack snagged her arm and spun her into an alley. They all took a breather and glared at the cringing woman. Hugging her arms, she avoided dark eyes with the uncanny ability to bore holes into people and looked at Daniel.

"I'm sorry, Daniel, I honestly wasn't trying to cause trouble," she pleaded. "They promised they'd wait until after we were gone."

Knowing she was completely in the wrong, she raised helpless hands. "God! I really am so sorry. I was just trying to help."

"You mean the nice revolutionaries lied to you," Jack said sarcastically and threw up his own hands in an 'I give up' gesture and ignoring Daniel's shushing motions. "Oy, I hate dealing with civilians."

At that, Daniel glared at him, "Thanks."

"You don't count."

Next to him Sam was wearing her arrested expression. "It makes sense if you think about it, Colonel."

He was too pissed off to be civil about anything just then. "Oh good, something makes sense. Share, please, before I go insane."

Teal'c was thinking along the same lines. "What better time to stage a revolution than when the majority of the opposing forces are focussed elsewhere?"

"Exactly," said Sam. "We provided them with the perfect opportunity to sneak in and do some serious damage. If I had to guess, I would say that first blast was the security centre holding the controls to the automatic systems. Without them the revolutionaries stand a chance of actually succeeding."

"That must have been why the blast was so big," Daniel nodded as it came together. "I mean a single grenade wouldn't create an explosion like that would it. Aren't they usually more of a bang than a boom?"

"It must have been some kind of chain reaction," agreed Sam. Only to fall silent again when she saw the scowl on O'Neill's face, "Sir?" she queried.

"Isn't the stargate in the same complex as the security centre?"

"Ah, yes," said Daniel slowly and coming away from the wall he'd been leaning against. "Yes, it is." Horrified comprehension was mirrored on all five faces.

Finally and completely at the end of his tether, Jack's fingers dug into his scalp as he ran them over his head and face. He was moving back out of the alley before he spoke. "Oh nonononono NO! I refuse to be stuck on this godamned planet for another day. Never mind freakin' years!"

Numb at the prospect, they all followed him at a dead run.

o-O-o

When they arrived it was to find the whole place a mass of burning rubble. The tunnel down to the stargate was accessible, but just barely and only by squeezing in between what were once the support lintels for the arch. If they weren't so desperate, they would never have risked going underground.

"Try not to touch anything and whatever you do don't dislodge anything," instructed Sam, stepping with extreme caution. "The last thing we want is a cave-in."

"Considering its pitch black and I'm having to feel my way, that's not exactly reassuring, Sam," Daniel dryly pointed out. In the darkness their voices seemed to float in the heavy, dragging atmosphere.

After what seemed like an eternity, they saw some meagre light at the end of the tunnel, literally rather than figuratively and one and all quickened the pace to reach it. What they found was the usual good news/bad news scenario. The stargate had survived the blast, but the DHD was a mess.

Five minutes later, Sam was lying in the ground with her head stuck in the bowels of it and fiddling with its innards by the light of a glow stick. "I think it's had it, sir," she said and scooted back out. "We'll have to dial in manually and hope there's enough residual power to create a wormhole."

Sat on the floor a few ft away with his legs spread out and contemplating his boots, Jack craned his neck to look up at the Jaffa stood next to him. "Look's like you're up, Teal'c." Waving at the huge metal ring, he said, "Dial us home."

They almost made it. Five chevrons were locked and the sixth was just short of being reached when a figure stepped out of the shadows of the tunnel and blasted off a shot. Sensing the threat a split second before, Sam managed to dive away from it in the nick of time. The diving roll finished in a crouch and she ended up on and hands and knees; staring at a bedraggled, blood spattered Neer'ah. In the Saluran woman's hands was a smoking rifle. Its recent discharge turned the air in the chamber acrid enough to burn the backs of their throats.

Despite the gloom and lit by the eerie green light of the glow stick, the crazed glitter in Neer'ah's eyes was now so pronounced it was impossible to believe she'd had them all fooled. Hoarsely, she said, "You didn't really think I'd let you get away so easily did you?"

"Since you ask, we were all kinda hoping you were dead, actually," said Jack bluntly. Hands in the air, he stood up and slowly began to edge his way over to the 'gate.

Very, very slowly Daniel, Sam and Rebecca followed suit. The gun wavered in unsteady hands. Seeing them retreat was so satisfying to the crazed woman, she closed in to see them better. Risking a backwards glance at Teal'c and nodding, Jack waved the others to a halt as the Jaffa completed the last few inches.

"How pathetic," she sneered. "You've escaped, eluded and made fools of everyone I've sent after you and yet now you cower before me." Her laugh was brief and maniacal. "I should have just dealt with you myself."

Praying she was right in assuming what the colonel intended, Sam drew the woman's attention by asking facetiously, "So, Neer'ah, how's the take-over going?"

Seeing O'Neill's chopping gesture for silence, Sam knew he wasn't happy with her drawing Neer'ah's attention. Licking dry lips as the woman drew closer with the gun's barrel aimed right at her face, Sam figured it was too late to change that now.

The comically vain woman was gone forever; replaced by a budding, and now thwarted megalomaniac. This was definitely the scarier version. Jaw locked tight, muscle ticking and a white face except for burning green eyes. There wasn't a trace of beauty left under the blood and grime.

Neer'ah leaned in to stare into Sam's eyes, asking menacing soft, "Are you afraid of dying, Major Carter? I hope so. I really, really hope so."

"Neer'ah, look at yourself," demanded Daniel with both hands still up in the air. "Can't you see what you've done." Quicksilver, his demeanour changed and he gestured at the destruction surrounding them, "All of this is down to you. You destroyed yourself and your home, nobody else."

Behind them, Teal'c gave one last tug to complete earth's address. As Neer'ah whirled with a hiss of rage towards Daniel, Jack gave a yell of warning and grabbing Rebecca, dragged her to the floor with him. Like an animal sensing danger, Neer'ah spun back to see the first beginnings of the wormhole. Her eyes went wide as some sense returned.

Sam was the closest and without thinking it through, she lunged and wrapped her arms around Neer'ah's upper legs and hips. Head tucked down, she heard the tremendous whoosh of the event horizon and something incredibly powerful wash over her head.

There was no time for a scream. As the wormhole snapped back to its usual serenity; the colonel's harsh yell of, "No, Sam" was left to reverberate around the charred chamber.

o-O-o

"You took a big chance, Major," said General Hammond. "It was a brave move, but risky. I'm not sure I could have done the same."

They were all cleaned up and barring some scrapes and bruises, hale and hearty. Sam didn't look at O'Neill when he said pointedly, "Considering there was only about an inch left of Neer'ah over Carter's head, Sir. I have to agree with you."

Hearing the barely disguised aggrieved tone, Hammond nodded and eyed the people he considered his flag-ship team and more than that, friends to a large degree. "You've had a rough time of it, but you've come through it in exactly the way I've come to expect from SG-1. All in all, I'm just glad to have you back safe and sound. Well done, people."

He turned to Rebecca who was sat between Daniel and Sam, "Thank you for your assistance, Dr Stanislow. You're to be commended."

She winced and looked like she wanted to sink into the floor. "Thanks, and you're being generous since I nearly cocked it all up at the end."

In a forgiving mood with all back as it should be, Hammond smiled his warmest smile and eyes twinkling, he offered some comfort, "Considering some of the harebrained schemes SG-1 have come up with and got away with in the past, I'm sure none of them are in a position to point fingers."

Gaze bouncing between a grimacing Colonel O'Neill and a cringing Daniel, Rebecca saw them both acknowledge the truth of that. "You did good, Doc," offered Jack awkwardly. "You'll have to excuse my tetchiness there at the end. I don't like surprises, or being stuck in the middle of a fire-fight I didn't start."

From the side, Sam nudged her arm to get her attention and leaned in to whisper. "Ignore them. The revolutionaries did a much better job of clearing the way home for us than we could have hoped to do ourselves. Oh, and I thank you, too."

"As do I," intoned Teal'c who had better hearing than most. His graceful bow of the head conveyed both gratitude and respect.

Cheered, Rebecca grinned, "Okay, stop it now. I'm filling up here."

Straightening up, Hammond signalled the end of the debrief. "Okay, that's it for now, SG-1. I'm ordering you all take some leave." He made shooing motions. "Go and unwind and I don't want to see any of you on base for at least a week." Rising, he stopped to eye Sam with a gimlet stare, "And that goes double for you, Major, understood?"

"No lab time," chorused Jack, Daniel and even Teal'c's deep voice was heard.

Deflating, Sam snuck a glance at the colonel and seeing raised brows and brown eyes steeped with resolve, opted for the easier option of no resistance. "Fine," she said irritably, "I'll go and unwind somewhere else."

About to leave behind Daniel, Jack turned when he heard the general call his name. Following the man into his office, his belly clenched in an instant rebellion of what this private chat was going to be about. Crap!

The general was sat behind his desk. An amiable and fatherly type, George Hammond was still a stickler for the rules, most of the time. "I won't keep you long, Jack," he assured him.

Uncomfortable and trying not to show it, Jack stayed by the door and shoving his hands in his pockets, he did his best to look relaxed. "What can I do for you, General?"

"This marriage business is a little awkward," began Hammond. "I'm just after a little assurance it is all fake and I won't get bitten by it at a later date."

Stiffly, Jack nodded but couldn't actually lie to a man he respected so much with the actual words, "And as it turns out entirely unnecessary," he said instead. "Go figure."

He must have passed muster because the general relaxed. "Good. That's all I needed to know, Colonel. Go and join your team in some down time. You deserve it."

On this topic, he deserved horse-whipping as far as Jack was concerned. If this was just him, he'd confess and let what happened happen. He couldn't do that to Carter, though. He was her commanding officer and the responsibility and guilt was his.

Neutrally, he replied, "Thanks, sir. See ya in a week."

o-O-o

Morosely sucking on a beer, Jack didn't bother getting up to answer the knock on his door. When the short, staccato raps were repeated though, he dragged his ass up and wandered over. Opening it to find the uncertain face of his 2INC was the very last thing he'd expected to find.

Christ! This was all he needed.

Jack didn't need to be psychic to guess what this surprise visit was about. Leaning on the door rather than inviting her in, he said, "This isn't a good idea. I thought we weren't going to talk about it."

Earnest blue eyes gazed back at him levelly. "I thought we could just dance around the subject, sir."

Yeah right. Carter was one of the most straight-shooting people he'd ever come across. Okay, this he had to hear.

Opening the door wider, he moved away so she could step over the threshold of his home. "Want a beer?" he asked on the way to the kitchen.

After a couple of movie nights held at his place, she knew her way around. Two steps down took her into the living room. "No, I'm fine, thanks."

Changing direction and lowering himself onto one of the couches, Jack dangled the beer bottle between his knees and waited tensely to see where she'd choose. When she chose the chair Daniel normally commandeered, he smiled wryly to himself.

"So, dance away," he invited into the awkward silence that followed.

"I'm in love with you," she blurted.

Jack choked on a sip of beer. When he could speak, he croaked, "Jesus, Carter that's not dancing, that's stomping."

"I know, I'm sorry." She blushed and the rosy colour only made her prettier. "I'm not very good at beating around the bush, sir."

Dragging his mutinous, admiring gaze off gently rounded cheeks, Jack sighed, "Yeah, well, that makes two of us and the reason why we shouldn't be having this conversation."

He felt like a complete bastard for saying it, but having spent almost all night picking away at the problem of his feelings for Sam and all the possible consequences, he realised he had no choice.

The way he saw it, they could pursue a relationship only if one of them left not just the SGC but the Air Force. Jack had the option of retiring, but couldn't see himself waving goodbye at the door while the woman he loved went off to fight the worst enemy mankind had ever had. If she did the leaving, she'd hate him in six months max. It just couldn't work.

"I know what you're thinking," she said softly, drawing his eyes back to her face. "You're thinking it would never work between us aren't you?"

"And you're not," he countered. "I'm not a genius like you and even I can see that."

"Maybe," she conceded, "But have you considered waiting?"

Jack's heart seemed to stop and then start again with heavy thuds. He'd considered it and then dropped it because he couldn't see himself asking her to do that, or her agreeing to it. "Waiting?"

"It's nothing new really," Sam said and shuffled forward, unconsciously getting closer to him. "You said yourself you've had feelings for me for a while. And if you ignore me being blind for so long, so have I." Her self-depreciating smile was tentative and unsure, "All I'm suggesting is we maintain the status quo until the time is right."

Jack had to swallow twice before he felt confident enough to ask, "And when would that be?"

"When the Goa'uld have given up, when someone else comes along who I trust to take over from us, when the government shuts us down. I don't really know." She paused, "All I do know is that I'd put up with a lot for us to have a chance together."

"What if you meet another guy?" God! He hated even the thought. "One you could be with straight away?"

"I can't predict the future, colonel, but I doubt it very much." She seemed to have the same problem saying it as he had when she pointed out, "You could meet another woman."

He didn't have to search for an answer either. "Not like you."

Desire, love, need and longing rose up sharp and intense. Emotionally charged in an instant, the atmosphere in the room turned heavy and warm. They both sat frozen, caught by the surge of feeling that ebbed and flowed between them.

Jack didn't know who jumped the most when there was another knock at the door. Like he'd been hit by a douse of icy water, he had to suck in a deep breath to surface from the shock of toppling back to earth. In the chair, Sam was struggling to pull herself together, too. She looked so adorably like a kid caught in a candy store, he simply couldn't resist the impulse.

Standing up, he bent over her with his hands planted on the arm rests. Dropping a kiss on her startled lips, he pulled back and said, "I'll wait for you, Major, but be warned the UST is gonna kill me."

That said, he headed for the front door just as another, impatient knock echoed through the house. "I'll give you two guesses who this is," he called back to her.

THE END


End file.
